I sat on the old log swing today, gently swaying back and forth and saw a different view of the lake from yesterday and the day before. It was a calm, tranquil water, deep gray in color; Shaded light to dark, a single ray of pearly white separating the two. The sky overhead , a lovely robin egg blue.
The ground all around was muddy and wet, not from melting snow like last year and the year before, but from every day February rain . The rocky , rounded terrain close to the rim is covered with green moss. I've never walked the moors of Scotland, but imagine this is what they might look like.
After a while, I stop the motion of the swing and sit perfectly still. I heard no sound, only the quiet all about me. Not a wisp of breeze, the tall trees stand silent, unmoving - like guardsmen at the Queen's gate.
Beautiful. Serene. I ponder the natural artistry that surrounds me, and am moved to pray out loud and joyously proclaim David's psalm from of old , " The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims His handiwork".
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