I draw prayer round me like a dark protective wall, withdraw inside it as one might into a convent cell and then step outside again, calmer and stronger and more collected again.
~ Etty Hillsum
No writing on the solitary, meditative
dimensions of life can say anything that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees...or the silence and peace that is "heard" when the rain
wanders freely among the hills and forests. But what can the wind say where there is no hearer?