2020-08-21 This Is What Monks Kn

When I awoke the birds outside were in full song. There’s a mocking bird who is a regular. He’s been busy trying to attract a mate, often singing and dancing atop a nearby street light.

The house finches and verdins chirp and flit about in the courtyard as I leash my two dogs for our morning walk. The hummingbirds zoom around my wife’s citrus garden, but also frequent the red feeder outside our kitchen. I call it their local pub.

It’s early, but the fountain in our courtyard is on. The trickling of water is soothing, as I take in the sweet scent from our blooming lemon tree. It’s very peaceful.

The final wisdom of life requires not the annulment of incongruity but the achievement of serenity within and above it. -Reinhold Niebuhr

Some measure of isolation

We live in the desert of southern Nevada, in a Dell Webb type development. There are palm trees and rolling golf courses that bring greenery to the desert landscape.

Our sunrises and sunsets can be quite spectacular. Around dusk, my wife and I sit out by our pool and watch the bats as they fly erratically, eating tiny gnats and dipping into our pool for a sip of water.

Often we sit in silence, taking in the sights, sounds, and calm grandeur. There’s quietness, too, when I walk the dogs. We stroll to the rhythm of our footsteps. A dashing rabbit here and there might quicken the pace and cause tails to wag, but overall, there’s a kind of stillness with our walks.

Sometimes I see passers-by listening to music or podcasts on their smartphones. I prefer to turn my phone off or leave it at home. I don’t want technology to intrude on the solitude.