Turns out that was enough.
I brought a book along in case I wanted to spend some time reading. Didn't get to it.
I was busy being quiet. All day.
I also brought a notebook with me and did a little writing. It wasn't eloquent. It wasn't really organized or earth-shattering. I just picked up the notebook and wrote down anything I saw, heard or felt sitting under the canopy of my giant tree. So, if you're wondering what a quiet day looks or feels like, here's a glimpse of my experience.
Ants dropping in.
Bird pooped on my ankle.
Bees busy buzzing.
Weeds not giving up.
Dragonflies bobbing on the breeze.
Fountain percolating the soundtrack for our day.
Careful tending of juvenile grape vines.
Sun slowly warming.
Women strolling. Reading. Resting. Writing. Listening. Looking.
Open mind. Agenda-less.
Dust moving in.
Thick redwoods. Lush.
Tree dropping leaves, twigs, bugs.
In the moment. Noticing details.
Sun peeking through thick, shady branches.
Blessings abound. Challenges abound.
Relax. Soak in silence.
Breezes beating back the heat.
Off the hamster wheel.
Clovers in abundance.
No pictures. Just feelings, senses and words.
Surrender. THIS is important, not a luxury.
Ambitious branches reaching for the ground.
Running shoes are neglected.
Trains loud and close.
Monks in blue jeans and coveralls. Old and young.
Sacred stones framing vineyards.
Stark chapel. No-frills. Basic. Simple.
Walnuts. Giant ones.
Soothe. Pause. Quality time.