There is a time of night when nature settles. There's dusk: the birds are quietly visiting amongst themselves, the traffic quiets, babies sleep, and peace reigns. The lake is perfectly, magically still. The only sounds are the gentle lap of the lake on the shore and the insistent call of the loons - beckoning their mates and babies to settle in for a few hours.
Then, just as I think that I have accomplished the release of stress, the incredible feeling of contentedness, I reach the perfection of peace. In the midst of darkness, there is a small window when everyone, even the loons, have a bit of rest. When I wake at dawn, the loons are calling, again, the lake looks like glass, and the doves are cooing. I relish in the mournful cries of the loons and doves. They sound sad, but in truth, they are joyful creatures. For they have another day to be.