A New Thing

The sun is sleeping below the horizon behind our house and we are hovering in that nether-world of hazey blue and calm has descended finally, again. And it is in this space that I step outside and breathe. Because I need this time. The stretching of legs and the deep inhale of humid Houston air. I need to see the sky for the third time today because computer screens just can't give me this. They can't bring me back down to earth and slow me down and remind me how very small I am and yet how very beautiful my God is in the details. And it is true- as it says in the Quotidian Mysteries, that rich thought comes in the monotonous swinging of arms and legs on the daily walk. And it is in these (all too rare) moments that I stop processing information at the speed of light (or at the speed of my wireless connection) and I stop caring who had kids or got married or split up and I just breathe. The stars pop out one by one and the moon takes the place of the sun and it is all quiet here.