Monday, June 27, 2005

The rain on my face...

Walking through the rain, I feel the spirit of the land, even as modern homes and power lines attempt to draw my attention to more transitory things. Highway 395 passes less than a half mile away, pulsing with the rush of evening traffic and billboards blaring gaudy advertisements into the sky. The convenience of suburbia distracts, but the old spirits remain; tonight I hear an owl calling out in the darkness. On other days I've seen the red-tailed hawk perched above electric towers, coyote jogging through the tall grass, or deer standing in the distance; yes, this place is still a garden wilderness, though currently disguised amid comfortable homes and modern structures.

The field behind Whitworth College reminds me of my own spiritual walk; all too often I get distracted by the hectic demands of life, but when I stop to breathe and appreciate the rain on my face, I feel the spirit revive within me.

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