Sleeping with Fifty Shades of Green

There is something about living rural that changes a person.  It goes well beyond the uptick in manual labor that is required of living on a rural property, including but not limited to the thrills of hauling your own trash, disposing of all kinds of animal feces (domestic and wild), mowing ad nauseam, and developing expertise in the use of a wide array of power tools.   

I have lived in a rural area now for over five years, in a house and home that sit on top of a hill, surrounded by trees that seem to irritate the satellite TV companies, but thrill me to no end.  

The change that the land, woods, and water surrounding our home on Frogwater road started creating in me over five years ago extends in many directions, ranging from the practical to the spiritual. This morning, what rests most noticeably on my grateful heart is the impact of the silence.  A silence that emanates from the land with grace and beauty  

In the silence, I sleep more deeply, have more transforming dreams, draw more readily to God, and find more joy in the night than any other place on earth.    I awaken more often with a profound sense of peace than any other resting place in my life history, most of which invariably involve the sounds of people being people, dominating their environment with technology, infrastructure, and their many urban habits.   

The interesting part of the silence in the Frogwater night is that the decibel level often keeps pace with that found in urban settings.  Yet, the sounds of the night march on in such harmony that silence of the mind and heart are easily found, held close, and woven into a deep, peaceful sleep that we were all designed to have, but so few of us achieve in our "advanced", fast-paced modern society.   

As I turn off the lights and rest my head on the pillow, I will first hear the harmony cast by thousands of frogs singing their chorus in the wetland below, crafting a symphony that will last well into the wee hours.  Their symphony celebrates what they do in the night, most of which can be distilled very simply into.... a lot of sex.   In their many shades of green, they will indulge in as many mating, courtship, and procreative rituals as it takes to perpetuate the species in their still healthy and thriving habitat:

Occasionally, the chorus will be interrupted by a predator, detected by one of the many frog Scouts surveying the land, on guard for the others.   When the Scouts sound the siren, all will fall momentarily silent... allowing the other sounds of the night to emerge.   Sometimes, a predator may make its question clear:  "Who?  Who, will be my dinner tonight?". Other predators may be more cryptic, howling deep into the night for an often unapparent reason that invariably stimulates the dogs in the area to do the same.   Still other predators will strive to remain silent, their stealth interrupted only by the invariable snapping of twigs and the brushing past the many shades of green that grow in the forest:

Though often silent outside of the forests, the wind will also find its voice here. Sometimes, it will simple whisper:   "Sweet dreams to you."  Other times, it will howl, stirring turbulence and trouble among the tallest of the trees and rushing through the underbrush as if late to a very important date.  

No matter.  The frogs will return, the sounds will continue.   In each unique combination, they will generate a never-ending series of lovely symphonies that pacify the heart and bring rest to the mind.  

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, Fifty Shades of Green can possess you and stay with you forever, just as the other Fifty Shades advertises, but without the R rating.    

  

Personally, I prefer Green to Gray... any day, any way.