When I go walking in solitude, or rather semi-solitude because I've got my dog tugging leash to leading the way, I feel a sense of home and contentment. It's strange - there is a certain smell that travels into my nose and triggers something familiar in my brain. I feel warm and fuzzy even if my fingers are chilly as snowflakes. As I lift my eyes up toward canopy of branches above me, I am sheltered from the torrent of rain drops that miraculously collide onto the needles and dissapear and I feel I could stay just as I am in that gaurded spot for the rest of my life. My usual preoccupations become fuzzy and soft around the edges until they tumble backwards piling one on top of another in the anterior of my mind, stuffed so dense they are indiscernable from the damp air sucked into my nose and breathed back out again. There isn't silence and there isn't noise, there is just the flow of life eternal which only He gives.
Matthew 25 - 27
“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?"