One Winter Sunday



The austerity of the winter landscape evokes its own special sense of the holy. It is a simple beauty. Things as they are. Unadorned. My life, within and without, would do well to imitate this beauty.

Today, I will dress warmly and venture out into the cold air of winter to walk quietly on the earth, beneath God’s cold blue sky. I will take no photos and offer no commentary. Just silence and presence. Words and images do not faithfully convey that which is natural and only experienced correctly through direct communion. That which is substantial exists in its own right.

“At last I know the presence of the world made without hands.” – Wendell Berry

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