[Clarification before I begin: Moments of much stillness are rarer in my country life than you might assume. Such moments should be seized, anywhere…]

I come down to replenish the fire. The library’s warmth reaches out to greet me.

There are no spare logs. I will need some later.

So I step out onto the front porch, just to fetch a log or two from the woodbox there.

The silence reaches out and greets me, and I am charmed.

So still.

So chill. But I am wearing a snuggly sweater, and knee socks below my skirt.

“Seize the opportunity!” says my soul.

And so I sit. And the brook across the road, beyond the veil of arborvitae hedge, gurgles and bubbles, fountain-like, rare sound. It usually either rushes, hard and loud, banging rocks together, or trickles barely heard.

As I welcomed the room’s warmth behind me, now I welcome the penetrating cool of this outdoor air. But in both cases what I’m really welcoming most is the surprising stillness…

…enough even to put up with the mosquito circling now. I pull the scarf from my shoulders over my head and tight around my ears, hunch up my mock neck higher, and listen to passing geese in flight breaking the quiet a moment, then gone. Then I am returned to hearing just that melody of tiny cascades over pebbles and rocks.

The geese have gathered in community and return with increased honking, while the brook sound of rocks and water seems to morph into the sound of footsteps.

They are footsteps!

I stand and step forward myself and then I see them: two deer, two sizes, most likely mother and near-grown fawn—entering the meadow just beyond me to my left.

They see me. But they simply slip behind a pine for a sense of privacy. Back in my porch seat I can glimpse them if I like, now and then, between the leaves and branches.

But we ignore each other. They graze in peace. And so do I.

“As the deer…”


Linked to

Still Saturday

6 thoughts on “Seizing the Stillness

  1. Dear Sylvia
    What a good gift from Pappa’s hand. It reminds me of my oldest son who surfed two days ago amongst a school of dolphins. At one stage a big whale was just about 300m from him.
    Blessings XX

    1. Wow, Mia! That sounds a bit more dramatic! But isn’t it wonderful when our Pappa God gives us these unique moments—to seize?

  2. “I am charmed.” That’s exactly how I feel, sometimes, when I am helplessly surprised by God’s creation – in stillness, in busy-ness, alone and in fellowship. I am charmed by your post this morning. Thank you. Janet

    1. And thank you, Janet, for visiting and commenting. Yes, those surprises are stunning!

  3. We live in the woods, on a dead end road with the barking of a dog now and then. Otherwise during the day there seems to be a lot of traffic for a country road. Week days the school bus stops in from of our place and laughing children exit and are greeted by their mothers. Usually in the evening and early morning there is stillness, and it is to be enjoyed.

    Hazel still using Roberts site.

    1. You know! But there’s worse around here, quite a lot: chain saws, mowers, tractors and other farm equipment, a rooster that won’t quit, hunter neighbors shooting as they site in guns, crows nagging, and yes the barking (or howling) dogs. Stillness is a rare treasure to be grasped and enjoyed!

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