Tranquility

I couldn’t tell you what tranquility looks like until now. To someone who has been living in the city his entire life, waking up to the scene of cattle grazing in front of the window is indescribable. In a different time and space, it would have been an ugly morning. The sky is overcast. The wind is gusting. The bald tree that is no longer decorated with any leaves from summer is holding an empty bird nest with one hand wiggling left and right while she tries to maintain her balance. The rain doesn’t hold back either. It definitely chases away all the morning joggers who often visit the paved trail that runs before my apartment. But, somehow none of these make my day gloomy. It was the cattle that make the difference.

Of course I have seen cattle before, but they were always something in the background as I drove on the freeway. They were part of a larger backdrop that comprises of stop signs, a McDonald billboard, or a placard that told me how much longer to the next gas station. Now, I see them grazing outside my window like a still life. Somehow, they form tranquility. Those hundred pounds of muscle and bones do not seem to mind the wind and the rain. They just lower their heads quietly grazing on that piece of reserve land that forms their world. The herd has a certain sense of certitude that they do not lose their calm even in the midst of a storm. I cannot help but think that if the Lord were to speak through this picture, what His message would be. Much closer to me is a wild hare racing from one side of the field to the other. It seems that he wishes to add a touch of humor to the silence of tranquility; he comically rushes back to where he came from shortly after his first intrusion of my view. Such is the typical winter morning in my one-bedroom apartment in Elk Grove.