The Breeze Gently Blowing Through the Trees

Maybe it has to do with my age. Or maybe it is my decreased tolerance for loud noises and crowds. Or maybe it is that I spent a number of years living on the 19th floor of an apartment in Brooklyn Heights that faced the East River, offering a splendid view from my living room of the spectacular Macy’s fireworks.

Whatever the cause, I had not the slightest temptation last evening to make my way to a location here in the Twin Cities that might offer a view of 4th of July fireworks.

Instead, I went out after dinner and laid down on my hammock. As I was lying there, I watched the trees gently moving in the breeze. For me, there is something powerful about that gentle movement. I feel any anxiety, any tension, easing as I watch the trees sway back and forth. My breath calms and I sway with the movement of the trees. In those moments, I feel one with God, one with all things.

It was enough for me. No fireworks, just the breeze gently blowing through the trees.

Later, we got an unexpected call from friends who were in the neighborhood. I smiled as I got up from my hammock, opened a bottle of wine and welcomed them into my home. A different experience of God from what had come before, but a lovely one.