The Hermit In Me

I suppose there's a little hermit in everyone.  The word hermit comes from the Greek word for solitary.  When I'm on my walks in the woods, I like being solitary.  Tom sometimes comes along, but mostly it's just the dogs and myself.  It's my church, my meditation, my inspiration, and when suddenly I hear a motor, and am in view from the road, I've been known to dive down into the weeds and grass of the field above, or stand behind a broad tree if in the wood at the end of the path towards the lake.  But... Really, it's not to be rude, or to avoid certain talkative people with whom we get all the "Lake" news. I enjoy those conversations at times when I'm receptive to that. I think it's just that when the place that I'm in is sacred, and I don't want to interrupt that spiritual flow with worldly things.

I'm reminded of the nuns who had a vacation sanctuary on Peakes Island Maine.  They at times would be walking together, but each in their own world of sacred silence, and we could not converse with them... they'd only nod their heads in recognition of our being there and keep very silent.  This fascinated me as a child, but I understood that I think even back then.  I had always taken quiet walks with my various dogs throughout my lifetime, and needed that spiritual refreshment as much as a thirsty man needs water or a hungry person... food.  Which reminds me... I'm back, it's late for lunch, and I'm
Hungry.