this is not silence

My Sweetie and I are taking advantage of the between-week at the bridge of the year to be Someplace Else for a few days. Come to think on it, we not infrequently travel during this window — a memorable post 9-11 trip to New York City pops brightly into mind…. I suppose it’s the moment when both of our feet itch too much, and also all the movements of Advent and Christmas Day have arrived where they need to be.

Anyway, we’re out at MO-Ranch for a few days. On acres and acres of property, there are between a handful and a double-handful of family-groups…

…so as far as the birds in particular are concerned, there’s no one here.

view from our porch in Wynne Lodge

This morning (it’s Sunday, our first whole-day here) we walked across from the main part of the campus to Loma Linda — yes across the catwalk — and up the hill mostly to Chapel on the Hill but also Nicklos Place.

I’m glad I went along with My Sweetie. Partly because it was Good to sit in the Chapel amphitheater and sing hymns in my head. But also because in the intervening time since I was last here — five years? — all sorts of changes have been made. A pretty path in addition to trudging up the road, places to sit, places to look over the Guadelupe… many new-to-me things.

So then after lunch I’m reading here while My Sweetie explores some of the now-labeled trails.

Or, I was reading. And I likely will be reading. But in the middle of intriguing words about aesthetics and creative selfhood as an overlapping bonding with creation in Christ

I just


And listened.

The lonesome bee-bug is back, noisy. The thumb-sized black moth only paused a flapping moment on my shoulder.

And the birds have a lot to discuss and accomplish before sundown.

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