Certain redwood groves are holy places for me because they capture silence and light. The forest is so dense as to exclude all external noise. It is possible to ignore their silence until a single bird sings within. When the single song has died not only do I realize I have heard a sound exquisite in its simplicity, but also that I have heard it so precisely because it was embedded in pure silence.
There is one thing that we are certain about and that is that we are surrounded by a profound mystery. And in some strange way we are asked to participate in this mystery and to collaborate with it.
