By Scott Shephard
It’s been a while. My last post to this misnamed “A Photo A Day” blog was in April. But here I am - alive and well. At the present the sun has just shown itself and I am sitting on our cabin deck. Some would say I’m alone given that the rest of our group isn’t up yet. But there’s a crowd out here on the cabin deck this morning
First, I shouldn’t admit this but I’ve got my headphones on and I sitting in the front row of a Sara Bareilles concert. Among many others, she’s singing “Brave,” “Love Song,” and “Gravity,” 3 of my favorites. Her adoring fans are making noise but I’m silent and smiling.
I am also in the presence of many others this morning. Ponderosa pines surround our cabin on all sides. But “surround” is the wrong word. “Embrace” is so much better. The trees don’t threaten my presence. They comfort it. It occurs to me as I let my eyes trace their majestic stature that they are all older than I am and will most likely outlast me. I am OK with this. It’s nice to know that I’ve got friends that will live longer than me.
When I take my headphones off, I hear something that is rare in our world: I hear nothing. There is no morning breeze and the pines stand silently. There are no human voices and no sound of cars on the nearby road. There are no lawnmowers cutting grass or airplanes flying over. There is nothing but pristine silence. Can you hear it in today’s simple snapshot?
Oh, and I mentioned that I’m not really alone. For this really is a “deer crossing” of sorts, as the sign by my feet says. A few minutes before this photo, three deer came by passing from left to right. There was a mother and her still-spotted fawn, along with another - perhaps a child from another year? I can’t say.
They were certainly a Trinity of sorts but I saw nothing religious in their presence. But they, along with the silence and the tall trees, presented a spiritual experience. I have never tried to explain this to anyone but here goes: There are a handful of places that I visit where, at the right moment, “I” disappear and so does Gravity. I am weightless, happy and blessed. And I am embraced, to borrow a phrase from a Czech author, by the “lightness of being.”
Close your eyes, take a deep breath and maybe you’ll be here with me.