Pass It On

I quietly crept in the dark, coffee in hand, to my AM sitting spot out on the swing, cat on my heels, padding soundlessly. We have turned back time once again, at least our clocks have. Well, not all of them, just the smart ones on our IPhones. The other ones know the truth and stalwartly guard it until we manually force the hands back. I wondered why I was awake earlier than usual, then I remembered. 

I sit and Sister rides the movement like a surfer and settles, waiting for her morsel of frosting from my other morning addiction. She has a sweet tooth like me. Nearby an owl is closer than normal and the staccato who-who-whooing is the only sound I hear. Away in the distance one answers back in a slightly different tone, never the same. I marvel at that. At all God’s creation. I think of this time as a kind of church without the human parishioners. 

I am privy, once again to a small feeling of familiarity. Of how it must have been in pre-sin Eden. When all was newly perfect. Before the lethal question that still rankles our present world. “Did God?” The spirit of doubt puts us all on a precipice of nagging gloom. It is the thing that always destroys our peace. 

But right now where I sit, there is silence and wonder and knowing that God is still keeping perfect order behind the scenes. High above, I hear the rumble of a passing plane. After that, a train rolls through. Then, a rustling in the redwoods announces the presence of a gentle wind. It’s a sound I never tire of hearing. It always produces a peace but also a feeling of melancholy from memories of happy times camping in Yosemite. 

When I hear the wind sigh in the pines, I remember golden afternoons when hikes were done, showers were taken and dinner planned, those breezes would come through before the hush of evening. That sound will forever solidify those times for me. 

I watch the tops of the trees bend and sigh, myself.

A neighboring tree answers. 

“Pass it on,” it seems to say. 

And it was answered by another and another, until the message was spread throughout the whole earth.

And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that He had done. Genesis 2:3

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