Home is where the heart is not famished, the eye not starved, the Sacred not banished or desecrated. The Sacred cannot be caught in formulas. It cannot be analyzed, not even in terms of ecology, as beauty cannot be caught in the semantics of esthetics. Fingers pointing toward the Transcendent need no vocabulary, for they do not preach. Beyond the dialects of all religions they witness to a religious attitude toward life itself.
A recent meeting with nature brought a strong reminder of the beauty, unity and harmony of Creation ... a viewpoint to balance the seeming madness and greed of the present world situation:
We walked slowly and quietly through the woods seeking out the old fallen tree that a raccoon family calls home. After offering our appreciation for their unseen presence, we continued on to a moss covered mound between two trees and sat down to rest -- delighting in the Silence. Within a few minutes, tiny birds began to sing and fly into the branches all around us -- twenty-five to thirty or so chickadees, nuthatches and several wee birds unknown to us. They flitted from branch to branch coming closer and closer -- a symphony of birdsong! One of those timeless moments of perhaps three to five minutes where you hold your breath lest you discover 'tis but a dream. but no, this was real ... pure gift, grace. Then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, they disappeared back again silently into the woods. One's only response could be silent wonder and great gratitude.