In the book I’m reading, two people are having a conversation by a river – the aristocratic fisherman and the cleric. It picks up, here, “There was a silence. The river went on flowing and in the meadows the cows continued to graze.”
In the midst of unexpected, perhaps uncomfortable silence, in the midst of trouble, in the midst of confusion, in the midst of heartache – the rivers flow and the cows continue to graze… and it is a good thing, a comforting awareness. There is continuance. There is a new day.