The Teen Man-Child and I feast on a supper of cold ham, sweet potatoes and a tossed salad. I eat slowly, clean up the dishes and then head out the door for an evening walk.
"Buffy", my iPod, plays the melodious strains of J. Phillip Newell's, "Sounds of the Eternal" as I head down towards the cemetery. Once there, I sit at my favorite spot, the small wooden plank between two trees that overlooks the bay and Doghead mountain. The wind is rustling through tree leaves and there's a haze
covering the town across the bay. The air is scented with that woodsy, damp leafy smell that signals autumn is around the corner.
I listen. I pray. I read from Caitlin Matthew's "Celtic Devotional". I stare out over the bay and watch leaves fall from the trees.
Audio Divinia. Lectio Divinia. Visio Divinia. Sensory Divinia?
Returning home I shower, light a candle and settle down to write. Another Tuesday evening slips away. * o
