Friday, April 8, 2022 (click here to read today’s scriptures)
Getting there, being there
In the quiet of the evening, don’t forget to breathe. So goes the song, which I recall as my mind wanders. I’ve been letting it wander since I read a headline yesterday in the Washington Post, “Here’s why you should let your mind wander – and how to set it free.” Serendipity, awe, creativity and rest all come more easily. And “one of the most attractive aspects of mind-wandering is its simplicity, which many of us are craving.” That’s me. I am craving simplicity. Along with serendipity, awe, creativity and rest.
We went with cousin Jan to County Line BBQ and ate ribs and sausage and brisket and a baked potato. We ate beans and cole slaw and potato salad. The lake rested just outside our window, lined with boats ready for weekend launch. The priceless air of April held us suspended in its light, breathy warmth, and the sun slowly settled behind the trees. We finished off our meal with Blue Bell vanilla, a single serving of ice cream that was enough for us all to share.
The road south curved up and down hills, first along Bull Creek and then the Colorado River. Beside us to the east were vertical rock formations, outcroppings of mostly sandstone, I think. We aren’t in Kansas anymore.
I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer.
We drove past the old concrete stairs leading up Mt. Bonnell, to the highest point in Austin. A hundred cars parked alongside RM (Ranch to Market) highway 2222, lots of folks were climbing up to watch the sunset.
George Bonnell wrote in 1840, “Cities are growing up in places which a few years ago were only inhabited by wild beasts.” That’s Austin. If you climb high enough (700 feet in this case) it doesn’t seem like city anymore. And there’s a sunset party every night.
I called upon the Lord and cried out to my God; from his temple he heard my voice and my cry to him reached his ears.
A moment later we pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of Mayfield Nature Preserve, where a dozen or more peacocks on the ground and on the rooftops mingled with their female mates and with us humans, who oohed and ahhed at them. Their song (their squawk, actually) is as ugly as their four-foot long blue and purple iridescent tails are beautiful.
We leaned against the concrete and felt the stillness of the evening, gazed across the pools and fountains, a gusty breeze whistling through the palm trees above us. My mind wandered, and I had no desire to stop it. Everyone took pictures, of each other, of the peacocks, of the softening dusk, the nearly-night sky. How can we capture a moment like this?
Mostly, we just breathed.
Your words, Lord are Spirit and life; you have the words of everlasting life.
(Jeremiah 20, Psalm 18, John 6, John 10)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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