I love the evening. Especially after it begins to warm up following a cold winter (or snap in the case of this year). I sit on the bench on my front porch with a cup of steamy hot tea and just take it in. Experiencing the night with all five senses. The air is damp and just cool enough to wat a sweater. I pull on my favorite zip front sweater. It’s warm enough I don’t have to pull it tight or close it around me. I let the cozy wool block the chill. A breeze ever so slightly wafts past. It’s almost too indistinct to tell from whence it came or to where it is blowing. The moist air opens my sinuses. I can smell earth. The musty smell of mulch. The warm, sweet smell of cattle. I love the smell of cows. And then, onion. I open my mouth to breathe more deeply. I can taste the onion. It’s been growing near the porch step for at least 5 years now. It’s potent; rich.
The low humming of the frogs echo near the river. I hear the “Jurassic Park” call of a sandhill crane. drip. a droplet of water falls onto the rooftop from one of the branches. I hear the droning of a mosquito. I let it bite me so as to not interrupt the quietude. Just down the street, a dog barks. Bark…bark, bark……BARK! The cat stalks slyly across the road. Tom. Silly cat, he ignores the dog completely. I see the buckwheat sway as he sneaks through it, but I don’t hear him. He’s a good hunter. It’s so quiet I can hear my own steady breathing, but I can hear so much.
It’s late, but the sky isn’t black. I can see the outline of the dark hills against the gray sky. It’s supposed to storm tonight, the cloud cover is thick. I suppose that’s part of why the sky is so light just above the hills. The lights from town must be bouncing off the clouds. The stars are hiding tonight. The street lights’ pale green casts strange shadows of the naked trees, still bare from winter.
It amazes me that God, the creator would make us so intricately to be able to pick up on the smallest pleasures of a still evening.
“Be still and know that I am God.”