There is nothing quiet about the lake in the morning, but you have to become quiet to notice it.
The sounds do not bombard you or compete for your attention. They just exist in this landscape, waiting to be noticed.
Birds chirp, geese honk, turkeys gobble, a rooster crows, men’s voices are muffled in the distance, an outboard motor starts, the hum of tires on asphalt paving shows up occasionally.
All of this is easily missed when we bring our own noise into this environment.
Instead of intruding upon the sacredness of this space, let the sacredness of this space intrude upon you.
There is nothing quiet about my heart in the morning.
So, I sit and wait for the sacred to intrude upon it.