It is snowing again. It is uncertain how much snow will accumulate this time. It will likely be a plowable and shovelable amount. The words of the hymn come to mind: Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow.
I watch a squirrel push the snow off his favorite branch. His brother is on the ground trying to find the seed and corn that my wife put out for the wild turkeys. But the deepening snow makes that a difficult task.
The layers of snow dampen sound. Quiet prevails. Nature conspires to bring me into Quiet. There is a universal conspiracy to bring me fully into the presence of the Creator.
It is as if the squirrel had just come from the Heavenly Council where plans were made to place obstacles to self-delusion in my path today.
Every snowflake speaks. Every creature is a parable of the Kingdom of God. Every breath is a reminder of the Spirit of God. Creation opens up to the depths of the One who created it, and I fall in.
Layer after layer of delusion melts in the warmth of Presence, until there is only God on God. The silence of snow falling on snow brings me to myself.