Stillness Spot

Today I went to my stillness spot - my special spot behind the young cedar tree. There's actually a view there, but today it was foggy. All I saw was the curve of the hill below me and the tops of the trees.

It was hard to quiet the chatter in my mind. The planes overhead didn't help. And the morning commute was loud, even from the distant country road. But I stood there anyway and watched the mist. It stole in like a ghostly army. First the wisps on the leading edge, then thicker and thicker until the horizon disappeared. Just the tops of the trees were visible. With the fog came quiet, even the planes and cars were muffled.

For a moment, the briefest of breaths, there was stillness. A mysterious moment where there was nothing, yet which contained all things. It was like the long-lost voice of a dear friend in the distance, whispering, calling me back — "Remember..." And then it was gone.

But I'll be back tomorrow.