I've been sitting on my carport for the past hour and a half or so, watching the sun fade away and the silouette of the mountains become one with the sky.  Just as the sun began setting, people began shooting off fireworks..  I'm eating fresh homemade peanut butter cookies that one of my parishioners dropped off and drinking a glass of milk.  Its in the upper 70s and there is a slight breeze.  I'm siting next to one of the herb gardens and there is the gentle smell of basil, sage, oregano and lavender wafting by.  The crickets are gently chirping.  Its beautiful really.  I feel such a peace right now.  I feel I am in a sacred place. 
It hasn't been like this much this week.  This week, I've been lonely.  I have felt like one without a home, without a place, without a path.  I've been thinking about that tonight as I've been watching the fireworks.  The fireworks are coming up from the other side of Baker's Mountain.  They are really beautiful.  Sometimes, though, they are not high enough for me to see.  I hear the explosion, but I do not see the beauty.  That has been my week.  There have been several times that I have not seen the beauty.  In my loneliness I have felt separated from family, friends, and God.  Still, I know that God is present.  I hear the explosions and I long to see the beauty.  Tonight, I saw the beauty.  I'm still seeing it.  I love this sacred place.  I don't want this time to end.  I want to linger.