As I was driving to work yesterday - my first day back after a week of vacation - I listened to Patty Griffin sing "All Creatures of Our God and King".
O brother wind, air, clouds, and rain,
by which all creatures ye sustain,
O praise ye! Alleluia!
Thou rising morn, in praise rejoice,
ye lights of evening, find a voice!
O praise ye! O praise ye!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
(stanza 2)
St. Francis of Assisi's words of praise could have been my vacation theme song and as I listened to the music I replayed many of the scenes from last week in my mind.
We started the week at my family's home on Lake Norman. This house - especially its porch - has provided solace and comfort to many over the years.
On the porch we shared a glass of wine and watched the moon rise.
We watched the blue sky reappear after the rain and the ducks come by for a visit.
But not all of our time was spent on the porch. We went for walks, seeing wildflowers and butterflies everywhere. We spent time with family. We read. And we floated.
Late in the week we left the lake and drove to the mountains for a family reunion. There we found another porch perfect for relaxing.
Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.
John Muir (1838 - 1914)
