Today, I pray you find moments of quiet serenity where the voices and noise of the world cease for a bit. I pray you sit in the peace of Christ that shields you, inviting you to rest your body, mind, and spirit as He ministers love, joy, and contentment to your soul.
You are safe with Him, you are enough, and so deeply loved. Peace be with you.
Morning begins as the sky blushes pink.
Tinges of sunlight peek through tree branches brightening the dew that gathered on the leaf tips.
The first gentle birdsong of the day breaks through the quiet morning in the meadow.
Nature’s alarm clock for sleepy, nestled down creatures.
Twitching noses tentatively sniff the chilled air. Who’s passed through during the night?
With that first chirp, meadow life shifts into motion for another day.
Grasses and tall flowers sway with the breeze, their stems bending low as fat bumblebees sip and tiny birds snip at seeds and insects along the delicate leaves and petals.
A mountain stream chatters and sings as it makes its way over branches and rocks.
Teeming with life, furry creatures wait motionless along the edges of the stream for their breakfast of insects, tadpoles, and crawdads. A full smorgasbord!
Far off, the repetitive pecking of a woodpecker echoes off the surrounding trees, blending in harmony with the full chorus of birdsong that resounds in the meadow.
So much life, so much beauty. Divine fingerprints everywhere.
A warmer afternoon lulls and soothes the busy inhabitants of the meadow. The pace of hunting, gathering, and gossiping fades and slows.
Traveling along its Creator made path the sun begins the descent toward the horizon.
The light and air take on a different feel – cooling, dimming, winding down.
Ethereal. Supernatural.
The day dwellers begin their tasks of settling in as snug dens and cozy nests beckon.
Night falls and the moon and stars take over the sky.
Night dwellers stretch, sniff the cooling air, and begin their routines. Their time in the meadow has a different energy than that of the day timers.
It is a time of quiet, stealth, and keen observation. Eyes and ears always alert.
They are just as busy as the day creatures, but go about things in a careful, hushed, and methodical way.
Moonlight and shadows are their friends as mystery and other worldliness take center stage.
His Divine Presence is here in the cover of night just as much as in the light of day.
He looks at all of creation and says, “It is good.”
Open space and room to breathe – some isolation really.
It’s calling out and my heart hears it – craving, simmering, and stirring.
A quiet place that will nurture, cradle, and hum the songs of nature, the songs of peace.
A lovely, forest-y, meadow path. Peace.
It takes a moment to shed the world as my feet take those first steps.
Social media vies for my attention hovering in the background. Did that recent post get likes or shares? A snarky comment or minimizing remarks? A book sale?
“Breathe,” whispers the spritely breeze.
“Look,” sing the serene trees.
“Just let it go,” shout the bright meadow flowers.
Squirrels and fussing birds dart and flit about their business. Purpose.
The pine-scent that soothes and calms permeates the slightly chilled air – breathe in and out deeply, and fully. Remember.
The silence of the forest and busyness of the meadow are a beautiful chaotic contrast – thrilling, healing and peaceful all at once. Lovely chaos that is joyful, primal, and ancient. Soothing and safe.
Senses are awakened from the hidden place where society often relegates them down to a murmur, a fleeting glimpse, perhaps a burden.
I belong to the elements where senses are welcomed and sights, sounds, scents, and textures are pure. I could be part meadow fairy or tree sprite…
This coming home lifts my spirits, as the tight-fisted clenching of muscles, mind and identity loosen and fall away.
The healing power of nature, the elements and life in the quiet places is spiritual, miraculous, and mysterious.
Divine whispers surround, swirl and permeate the soul, spirit, and heart bringing pure delight, unfettered joy, and such hope.
As I drink it in, scraping off the expectations, demands and “shoulds” that cling to my heart, I feel a melody pumping through my veins.
A release and crescendo beating in time to the songs of nature and the quiet places lovingly woven by the Creator.
Healing, belonging and peace flood in to fuel the song, seal in my mind’s eye and heart memory the wonder and serenity of this less traveled road to peace.
My heart singing to the rhythms of Creation.
Standing at the edge of the alpine meadow my coffee mug is warm in my hands. A beautiful balance to the chill air. Ahhh…
Under the towering Sugar Pines, I take a few moments to soak in the first glimpse. My senses are awake and receptive drinking it in. There is a physical sensation of being pulled and beckoned, compelling me to go out in the meadow. This is my place. Belonging.
Leisurely walking the boardwalk, I notice the sights, sounds, and smells that make up this lovely place. Earthy, elemental, fresh yet ancient is what comes to mind. I pause to deeply breathe in the air, cleansed by so many Sugar Pines, Giant Sequoias and Cedars.
The meadow is already alive with creatures going about their business. The shiny black birds and bright, bold Tanagers call, dive, and swoop as they greet each other and share the meadow gossip. Flitting insects and seeds make up their breakfast. They light on the tip top of the purple-blue lupine, singing and swaying with the breeze that ruffles the meadow flowers and leafy plants. Joyful!
There is a greyed and hollowed out fallen tree with gnarled branches and bits of decayed roots lying across part of the meadow. A small tree is growing up from the edge of one of the dead branches. I wonder what creatures call the nooks and crannies home? Grass in varying shades of green, and bright yellow Sneezeweed, tiny white flowers and deep purple lupines have grown up around the old tree like an embrace. These colorful flowers create a gorgeous living carpet. Breathtaking.
Walking further in, I find the perfect spot to sit. Settling in, I am at peace. A feeling of being welcomed, rooted, and folded in, as if I belong here, in sync with the mystery and rhythm of the meadow. Connected.
I hear a rustling scurry in the clump of meadow flowers just below and to the left of my spot. A small grey-brown head peeks up and watches me, judging and spying. Deemed safe, the chipmunk darts across the boardwalk continuing his morning journey. I’m curious what the day holds for him/her. Purpose.
Trickling and whispering, the little meadow stream bubbles and flows out into the meadow. Tiny insects dip and float on the clear water. Other creatures scratch and rustle in the crowded marshy earth, searching for an appetizing addition to their breakfast. I don’t know its source, but as the season pushes on the stream will slow and the water will pool, creating a new habitat that sustains those late summer and early fall plants, flowers, and creatures. Seasons.
The morning light filtered through the tree branches at the edge of the meadow casts a mysterious, divine glow, as the summer sun rises. The rays force their way between pinecone laden branches burnishing the meadow with a lemony, pure, white light. Each light ray is distinct and discernable, stretching out beyond the trees to touch a specific spot. These bold rays are in sharp contrast to the meadow area still in shadows. The lighting produces an ethereal, other worldly feeling where one might fancy seeing a forest sprite or fairy, dancing and flitting through old growth and flowers. A supernatural spotlight.
The Divine is palpable and alive in this place. The Creator is here in this beautiful meadow. It is ancient ways, knowledge and mystery, the connection between living things and continuous rebirth.
The cool morning air is becoming warmer as the sun continues its climb. I have been out here for a while, feeling as one with nature and this meadow. The early morning creature energy is slowing to a lazier, relaxed pace, slipping into the routine and warmth of late morning and early afternoon.
It is time to get on with the day. I feel melancholy and wistful as my time in the meadow comes to an end for this trip. Life will go on uninterrupted after I head down the mountain. It is as if I’m leaving part of myself here with the meadow to be picked up at my next visit; to recharge and restore what life has depleted. Is it strange to feel so connected to a place?
Divine connections and encounters are a blessing. It feels like hope. I will treasure these sights, scents, and sounds until next time, when I sense the meadow’s welcoming arms and soothing call to come and sit a spell.
Extravagant Hope 