Listen to the rythym of the falling rain...

The first night I can sleep with my window open is always a special one. I've got it open right now, a softly warm night - cool breeze wafting in. I'm all snuggled up, listening to the spring peepers. Nature is a stirring out there - all sorts of critters are out and about, starting their families.

My dog knocked me over when I got home, shortly before midnight. She may be 13 but she still greets me like a puppy. I put her on a leash and took her out for a perimeter check. 

We paced around the yard: she sniffing up a storm, while I examined the prints from my LL Bean boots in the soft earth. 

Over the past few years, I have lived in several cities. Cities are great for walkability, being close to my work (they don't generally put too many theaters in the 'burbs). It's all fine for that... But I miss the seasons.

Now I know the seasons still occur on the city, I'm not stupid. But I miss seeing Nature at her best. I never feel more comfortable then I do near the trees.  The signals that nature gives our bodies are not to be sneezed at - I know it's a significant part of my spirit.

Tonight at Adoration, Father Matt was speaking about silence. I love silence. As a crazy busy theater artist who always takes on too much, I never get to make time for true silence. In fact, sometimes I think I can be afraid of the silence. My brain races a mile a minute, even at night.

When I'm in the city, as I am most nights, my window is shut. I can still hear the muffled sounds of cars whizzing by, couples shouting... I can't sleep. It's so very quiet. I think about everything from guy troubles to "if someone was to walk in with a machine gun, where would I hide for optimum safety?" to the scariest scenario of them all (my future! Ah!)

But here, near nature, I get the song of the peepers and the lilting odes of the owls to calm my brain and let me soak up the silence of the mind. Now if only I was camping outside.... Maybe it's not quite warm enough for that yet!