It is Good

This day is so lovely. Out on the estuary of the Grand Bay the sun is illuminating the cornflower sky. The wind combs the trees and the reeds and the palmettos and says to the mad world outside this sanctuary: "shhhhhhhh." It is wise advice. Be calm, be quiet, listen. "Turn away from your screens and your date books." It chides. "You fools, you cannot contain your time in your calendars," it says.Time belongs to the wind, and the trees, and the earth.
     Animals are content in this place. They listen to the wind, as it speaks the message of wisdom to all, and obey it. They live in the cycles that nature imposes on them. The sorrows of man are his own doing. Harmony lives here among these reeds, these waters, and these trees.
     Along the horizon line southern pines, brushy heads atop their straight trunks, stand guard around the estuary. They say nothing. They too are wise. In their silent station they provide homes for the birds and shade to the creatures below. Osprey and sparrows trust these trees to give them a place to perch and take refuge. In their silent station they stand. They thin toward the water's edge and come to a point where one stands alone. A commander for this immobile troop, he keeps his place.
     The water, dark like iced tea and just as cold, ripples under the power of wind. Shiny silvery bodies of fish jump into the air and land back in the water with a swish and splash. Are these fish curious about the space above like we are? Do they wonder? I do. I wonder. I wonder where the feeling that swells in the center of me comes from. I wonder what source determines its hue. Today it is cornflower blue and reed green. Today, right now, it is good.