Longing

A couple of weeks ago, Bob and I went over to Abbott's Lagoon at Pt. Reyes National Seashore.  The weather report promised it to be a nice day, the last before a series of storms, we took advantage of being retired and took off on this Monday morning for a nice day at the coast.   As we passed through Inverness, fog closed in and shrouded the low hills.  It only grew thicker as we approached Abbott's Lagoon.  Walking along the path from the parking lot to the lagoon, the fog was to the ground and we could only see the path a few feet in front of us.  Everything was hushed and silent, hidden and mysterious.  Even the usual white crowned sparrows had gone somewhere else.  I felt from the earth a tremendous longing, a longing for rain to end the long long drought.  And I realized there is also a tremendous longing in me but for what I'm not exactly sure.  My life has become very quiet.  There isn't the pressure and busyness that plagues our culture.  I have time.  I have space.  I am waiting.