The quiet is amplified by the occasional drip of water within the glasshouse. It is the sound of growth.
Stepping outside, the sounds of birds chime through the trees. Quite content they should be with the variety of trees and plants in this space.
There is something about being with nature and plants. Observing their patience in growing. They don't expect to blossom from seed to maturity in a week. It is years of nurturing and posturing. Some of the trees I stood next to provide the oxygen to me as they did a hundred (or more) years ago. This same place. This very spot. It is overflowing with history and grace.
God is not split between the religious and the secular. He is in everything. He is everywhere.
Leaving my middle-earth calm, wise, and clear.
- George MacDonald