Trudy went with me to water the garden. We could have been weeding. We could have been mowing. We could have been weed-whipping. We could have been doing a hundred productive things to shorten our to do list but Trudy sat and I thought it looked like a good idea, so I sat as well. She was right. Sitting was good.

We got up every twenty minutes to switch the water – James’ PVC watering system in the garden is to be admired and appreciated – but otherwise, Trudy and I just sat.

From our vantage point we could see parts of the pond. We could see a fraction of the pasture, but it’s where the cows happened to be, so we watched them. We could see the garden and we could hear the birds singing all around us.

We sat. For about an hour. Until the garden was well-watered and Trudy was getting fidgety and we decided we’d better get back to the house and make sure James took his next dose of meds. But for that hour I tried to just be still. I tried to just know. I tried to just let everything fade away but the here and now. And I was blessed by that stillness.