I awoke and found the land changed; the view morphed into something new. The house being built next to ours seems to have sprung up overnight and now we are fully surrounded.
The land in great reluctance has surrendered another acre and I assume the heavy soil questions the ‘gifting’ of itself; as night shadows descend and the rains begin to fall and the turned over dirt is cold.
I rose and during the day’s journey I dusted the buffet belonging to my Grandmother; a piece of furniture more than one hundred years old and I wondered what this lovely piece of hewn wood has witnessed.
Wood and land, dust and soil and stone; watching humanity move and build and tear down and stomp around with passions and proclamations. The elements wait without comment for they were there on the very tip of God’s hand during creation and they will cover us as God closes eyes and they observe our lives and decisions…and they wonder as we dust and dig around and carry on with abandon…
690 Saint Paul 