Some Place To Go

I have places that I love to be. You have them as well. Not necessarily places, like, somewhere to visit or take a vacation to. My special place is in the quiet of an early morning. A morning just like today. It was very quiet when I read those three dim red numbers: four, four, five. All the time I lay there, I could not hear one thing on the street below my bedroom window. After a few short minutes I rose from the warmth of the last few hours and placed my feet on the cool wood floor. It was evident through one of the windows that the night still held its grip. There was no hint of sun light off to the north east. Not even one chirp of some song sparrows somewhere in a distant tree. It was dark and the thick clouds had even blacked out any of the light from the moon that was indeed up there. I love the early morning with its quiet stillness. Back in June, the sun would have been showing itself by now, but not today. Not this late in the summer.
After getting up and dressing, I opened the rest of the blinds to reveal even more of the still, quiet street below. From the street light I could see a hint of the breeze that moved the leaves and branches as they cast their shadows against the windows. I could tell that it was going to be a beautiful morning.
The only noise to brake the silence came from the creaking of the stair treads as I descended them one bare foot at a time. Making my way toward the back door, I walking across the parlor carpet, stopping once just long enough to make the sound of a single click of the tri-light floor lamp. Soon another click broke the silence as I turned the deadbolt and another click from the door lock as I unbolted the door before opening it wide. For what seemed to be a long space of time, I stood there breathing in the morning air and feeling the breeze waft over my face.
It was so quiet. Something inside of me, calling me onward as I stepped outside into the crisp cool air. The movement of the door, turned on the yard light and I saw it was clear to continue on my way. The lights’ beam reassured me that I was not venturing outside to inter up the night scrounging of our neighbourhood nocturnal animals. I moved out and around the corner of the house and down the drive.
It was there that I stood for some time just allowing myself to be enveloped in the quiet stillness of this morning. Looking around at the quiet street, there were no cars, no people, just a line of street lights burning bright in the black early morning. There I stood, in my special place, motionless, gently smiling as I thought I heard the voice of God blowing through the trees saying to me, “Be still and know that I am God.” And I was.
Something to think about on a still, quiet, early morning
Rob