My legs burned.

My breathing was heavy but calming.

I leaned against a stump.

The moment my feet stopped, I felt the profound quiet.

My ears rang with the suddenness. My footfalls had been loud compared with the absence of sound that surrounded me.

True, the silence wasn’t complete. A distant plane faintly hummed. The occasional car could be heard in the canyon far below. But, those sounds were distant and very faint. Bird calls and faint wind song were all that could be heard close by.

I took out my phone and started photographing the view. As I concentrated on composing a scene with a weathered dead tree, Boulder Canyon below, and the morning sun beyond I was startled by a strange noise.

I turned toward the sound seeing nothing but a pair of hawks flying away. Then I realized, it was quiet enough to hear the sound of their wings beating.

I lingered on top of Sugarloaf Mountain for some time. I don’t know how long. There was no one else there and my mind soaked up the silence like a desert traveler soaks in water.

I made it back home before noon and kept busy the rest of the day with typical Saturday responsibilities. My legs were sore but my sole was rested.

At creation, God set the standard for rest – one in seven days. I do a lousy job of sticking to that standard. But, one thing I’ve learned is that my mind needs rest as much as my body does. Yesterday was a good day of rest for my mind. I need more of those.