Dawn in the woods has to be the closest thing to heaven on earth. Morning awakening in my woods, sitting in my back yard on the bench facing east, is one the most beautiful experiences I've had. Especially Sunday mornings. Virtually silent of humanity's noise. An occasional car going by. Birds chirping everywhere, a cacophony of symphonic praise. I can almost hear the viola's, trombones, flutes and drums warming up! The red tailed hawk screeches and looms for breakfast. A small flock of Canadian geese do a flyover. A woodpecker knocks away at a tree trunk. In the distance, a train whistle enters the audio horizon. A labrador retriever crunches across frozen leaves. The birds sing louder. This morning is truly silent, not a silence from absence of noise, but absent of demanding distraction. Simply mindful sounds of real silence.

I breathe spring, and I breathe the last vestiges of winter saying it's goodbye. Cool, dry air fills my lungs as I taste the day beginning. Darkness is passing, the light is already shining. Only small rings of snow exist, their companions melting into nourishment for March daffodils, Aprils grass, and hostas breaking forth in May. The trees remain the same, the same as they appeared since November. But inside each tree, life is busy preparing foliage for the world to rejoice. Next Octobers back wrenching chores await somewhere in those trees, a chore I joyfully perform in humble homage to the cycles of life. The trees aren't going anywhere. They didn't mind the snow, the ice, the bitter cold. Summers insects will have to wait, but never un-nerve a tree. The trees stand as reminders of perfect detachment, embracing each and every season.

It is morning. It is almost spring. It is time passing, coming and going, seamless in sharing life to the next stanza.

I cut my morning (pick your label here) prayer/meditation/quiet time/contemplative/centering prayer short a few minutes this morning. I was falling asleep during it, quite unusual in the mornings. The Doans PM pill I took for my sore back must be pretty strong. Just didn't feel like a spiritual thing to do, end my prayer early 4 or 5 minutes. In fact, "felt" very unspiritual.

So I continued by doing something else very unspiritual; definitely unOrthodox, un Orthodox enough I post it here rather than my (label creating attachment coming) Orthodox blog. There was enough for one last glass of chocolate milk in the fridge. Since I haven't had any milk, ice cream or milk shakes in now over 2 1/2 weeks, I felt unspiritual enough to endulge myself even though we are in the middle of Lent. So I sat down in front of our large window looking out over the woods, sipping this wonderfully tasting glass of chocolate milk.

I stopped being spiritual, or rather, stopped trying to be spiritual. I just sat and looked, sipped and tasted. The woods are gorgeous, each season has a beauty of it's own. The house itself is old and quirky, we think about moving, but how could we give up this acre of heavenly woods? The snow is melting everywhere. My labyrinth trail is visible again. So are the icons. I can even make out the icon of the Theotokos next to the bench, all the way from here in the house. Still piles of snow from where I hurt my back shoveling weeks ago.

Another sip, another glance. That was cool sitting here yesterday before going to Cincinnati for Tai Chi. Before I left, 3 large deer showed up in these woods. I sat and watched them for about 15 minutes. One came all the way up into the driveway, much to the dismay of our 3 dogs, barking and whining loudly to get out. I made them quiet down and just watch with me doing nothing about it. Like I'm doing now, nothing, non-doing. Not praying, not meditating, not reading spiritual books or being spiritual, just sitting, being observant, having another sip of chocolate milk. What a blessing to see deer in my own back yard.

With the snow peeling and melting back, I can see some barely green grass underneath for the first time in weeks. Lots of leaves still in the woods too. The squirrels are getting adventurous, coming down out of the trees to dig for food. The deer are nibbling on what's left of the vinca, a vine (some label an invasive weed) I like having as groundcover. The squirrels and deer get along fine. My dogs get even more agitated seeing the squirrels. That was cool seeing wildlife in my back yard.

The glass is almost empty. I poured my chocolate milk in a glass I got from one of my favorite runs in Florida, the Gate River Run 15k in Jacksonville. What an awesome run! Beautiful spring day, lots of runners, always a little bit cool in J-ville in March. And that massive bridge to go over in the 8th mile. I remember Shawn, Jaron and Greg running it with me once. Lord, bless Shawn, Jaron and Greg. And all runners seeking peace.

Tai chi was great last night. It's kind of peaceful driving 2 hours to Cincinnati, and worth every minute of it, I should go more than once every 6 months. Ralph is a great teacher of the yang style. What a prayerful time driving home last night! I planned to stop at a rest area to meditate/pray/center/Psalm, but ate an apple instead. Slowly, taking in every bite, enjoying the sound of the cars and trucks flying by. Kind of like now, just being present to the moment. Not fighting memories and thoughts and images, just letting them go, as slowly and gently as they came.

The sun is really up now, coming up over the garage. Bright, sunny, wonderfully cool morning. The chocolate milk is done, I truly enjoyed every tasty sip. I don't think I've ever been more mindful drinking milk.

Maybe tomorrow morning I'll be spiritual again.