Prayer Road George A. Crispin Woodbury MM L ike most people I get up workday mornings, try to beautify myself, dress, and go off to my day's labor. To get there I travel the same road, day after day, my vehicle knows the way. It is habit and early in the morning, so it requires minimal concentration, barring notice of other traffic, slippery sections in the road, and dangerous intersections. Thus, my mind has time to roam without the usual interruptions and distractions. I play soft, melodic nature music, which has replaced the more jangling and upsetting news programs.
Talk shows are the worst.
Though often stimulating, they too often find me at my destination full of conflict. Nature music affords me a calm interior with which to face the day before me. One morning several years ago I was overcome by the majestic beauty of the beginning day. It was truly like a birth. The sun burst across the horizon filling the sky with a golden glow tinted at the edges with rose that blended gradually into purple.