Thursday, February 19, 2015

African Evenings.

I sat at the edge of the lake. 
Expecting a quiet sunset. 
Wanting some time to gather my thoughts. 
As I let my mind sink into the world of deep thinking and imagination, 
I forgot where I was. 
Before long, I was interrupted by sound. What was that? 
Birds. All kinds of birds. 
Different colors. Different families. 
It began suddenly. With one unique note being repeated over and over. Setting the time. It was as if the director had raised his baton and that first anticipated note had emerged from the orchestra and suddenly broken the hushed silence... 

Another note. Echoing the first. In perfect unison. Back and forth. Back and forth. As If the bird was saying “I was BORN to perform this one. Listen up.” 
Suddenly, out of all corners, there came the largest variety of notes. Some loud and shrill. Some low and soft. Each coming from a bird that seemed to inherently know exactly what it was meant to add to the mix. The African Dove landed in the Willow tree above me and joined in, not wanting to miss the opportunity to perform. His familiar coo and pattern keeping perfect time with the rest. 
They just sang. On and on and on. As if the song was the only and very reason for their existence. 

I wondered for a moment what it must be like to live like that- not worried. No stress. No concern over where your next meal will come or where you will tuck your head in to sleep tonight. Just wild, raw freedom. Singing songs about the sunset. About the beauty you live among. And I looked up. I watched the sun begin to set behind the lake-as if the lake dropped off the edge of the earth and the sun with it. As the sky began to darken and shadows began to form, everything suddenly took on a new character and feel. Things seemed more mysterious. And larger. The willow trees in the shadows suddenly sprang to life-appearing to have very human-like qualities. I watched the reflections in the water as the sky turned from it’s vivid orange hues to a deep purple. And I sat back, breathed deeply of the fresh evening air, and thanked God once again for peace. For stillness. For symphonies of birds composing a wild concerto. And for the beauty that reminds me  “The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” 

1 comment:

Dan Howard said...

You are a great writer Liz, love your thoughts and deep water faith. the Lord WILL fight for you and is fighting for you, like Helen Keller supposedly said, "Life is a daring adventure or it's nothing."
Blessings old friend