It’s about 5:30 in the morning and I’m watching the sun come up over the rolling plains and grassy mesas of New Mexico. There’s a diffused honey glow on the horizon and the shadows in the mesas are soft and still sleepy. The sky is pale blue and cloudless. Right now it’s cool outside. The sign says 64 degrees but it’s supposed to go up into the 90’s today. A few moments ago I went outside felt the enlivening breeze and listened to some birds singing to the morning. A line from the poet Rilke came to mind: “Silently the birds fly through us. Oh, I who long to grow, I look outside myself, and the tree inside me grows.”
The greatest journeys are within.