The Bayfield pennisula juts up from Lake Superior's south shore directly into the lake. Most winter mornings we wake to a new layer of fresh-fallen "lake-effect snow." Sometimes it's merely a dusting, sometimes more.
Today's practice began after I stepped out onto the deck wearing a thick layer of clothing: heavy hat, lined leather mittens, Sorel boots, winter jacket topping down vest and sweatshirt, scarf wrapped around my mouth and nose. It felt good to move in fresh air and new-fallen snow. Once I stepped back inside the only sign of a winter-weather practice was the cold tip of my nose.
There is so much silence surrounding me here.... The woods rests beneath snow's thick insulation. The only sounds: the light tapping of a bird beak against tree skin, a quick rush of wind inciting tree branches to motion, my own footsteps crunching and squeaking atop a light coating of snow. The only movement--other than myself--the flutter of occasional birds and the whoosh of the breeze. I am safe in winter's embrace ... enchanted by the wonder of All.
It is our quiet time.
We do not speak, because the voices are within us.
It is our quiet time.
We do not walk, because the earth is all within us.
It is our quiet time.
We do not dance, because the music has lifted us to a place where
the spirit is.
It is our quiet time.
We rest with all of nature....
Nancy Wood, Earth Prayers, 1991, p. 324
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