Dews of Quietness

Drop thy still dews of quietness
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.

Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind and fire,
O still small voice of calm.

- from a hymn by John Greenleaf Whittier, worth watching the video for stunning Scottish scenery.

Gratefuls:
- seeing the heron on morning walk alone
- silence so often here on the Land
- sleep; I never take it for granted