More Wanderings

Late, tired, and can't sleep. Wind is blowing the trees outside. I can easily imagine it to be the wind in the Limber pines back at Wheeler Peak of the last 4 days. Miss them already. Wind in pines is a unique melody with its own harmony. Love mountains. They are cleansing and uplifting in so many ways. My place in Paradise has some breath-taking mountains.
There was a small stream, lined by green grass and filled with moss covered rocks. Music. When I was still, I could hear a pitch below me, one in front, and two more different ones upstream at a small water fall. Their harmony was constantly changing, but always there, always in harmony. Literal music. All things have their music. So much is above or below our receptive range right now. Even the pitch of the universe itself is measured and known as it hums along very, very low. I am anxious to get my real hearing back. Maybe then the "still, small voice" won't be so difficult to hear at times. What music there must be!
I love the music of Judy's heartbeat accompanied by the rhythm of her breathings. I love the music of wind, leaves, and streams. I love the music of laughter, especially childrens'. I love the music of moving water, especially in a forest rain, or snow fall. Have you ever been quiet enough to hear the snow fall? I love the music of thunder in a slot canyon or between high peaks. It rocks me. I love the music of heart to heart communication that uses no voices.
Watching Judy play in the forest was music in motion. A dance. No agenda. No place to go. Just beauty to observe, wonders to see, music to hear. She played and explored with the innocent joy of a small child and took wonder in many of the same things. It brought youth and fun back into my heart to be with her. What a gift to be able to set aside adult cares in so carefree a manner. Now I understand Him better when He said, "one must become as a little child. . ."