February 26, 2016 § Leave a comment
Matt and I went for a hike last weekend. He took me to the Ceasetown Dam and we tromped through the woods, sliding like little kids on the ice that lay under the deep shadowed trees, squishing through the muddy water where the sun had worked its invisible magic. It was one of those rare winter days in Pennsylvania where the air is a dance of contradiction, warm in the light and still chilly in the shadows. It was a day made for the sound of creeks rushing over little rocks and the lush scent of dead and rotting leaves. We took our time as we walked down the trail towards the lake. I climbed a half-fallen tree but didn’t get very far. The lichen was damp and gave my sneakers no purchase on the slanted trunk. He found a long, thin stick and we had a mock sword-fight, with little bits of bark flying every time our branches clashed. He showed me his favorite fishing spot: a giant boulder, spearing sharply up out of the water, steep and granite-cold. We sat there for a while as the wind blew. The tops of evergreen trees make a unique noise in the wind that sweeps off a frozen lake and into them, have you ever paid attention to it? It sounds like murmurs; it speaks of peace.
We stood on the rocks at the very edge of the frozen water, looking out across a green and gray horizon. The sunlight glowed in the air and then shattered off the ice into a glorious profusion of gold and silver and white. Every shade of blue in the world glinted in front of me. The colors were right at my fingertips, they were grace made visible, they shone like a benediction. And I thought: let my joy rise like incense before You, my God.