There is a spot along the route I take on daily walks, in which I always must stop. I like to think of it as my own, secret spot, though I know many others have tread the same path. I see their footprints and I vaguely wonder who they might be. Mercifully, no one else is ever there when I make my way through the trees.
Today, it was full of dappled, autumn sunlight, filtering down sweetly through the golden canopy of leaves over my head, helping to create a moment of heavenly perfection.
To the right of my little pathway are expanses of reeds and water weeds, almost as tall as my head. All at once, they open up to a heartwarming picture of nature’s perfection, giving me a view of the shining, blue-green splendor of the lake.
I stand and stare at it’s beauty, lovely creation that it is. When I have looked my fill, I close my eyes and feel the softness of the wind brushing past me, all around me. It seems to whisper the words of a song to my heart. Always the same song. And so, I say an ave there, ensconced in my own private pocket of tranquility, before moving on to the patiently waiting concerns of daily life.