All the hills and woods are red and brown and copper, and the sky is 
clear, with one or two very small clouds. A buzzard comes by and investigates me, but I am not dead yet. The whole landscape of woods and hills is getting to be saturated with my prayers and with the Psalms and with the book I read out here under the trees, looking over the wall, not at the world, but at our forest, our solitude.
Thomas Merton