Normally, there aren’t a lot of good reasons to get up at 3:30 in the morning. Sometimes, just sometimes, there are. This was one of those times.
The river is a mirror. The air, still and crisp, not yet wearing winter’s chill. The silence, magnificent and otherworldly.
A thin place where your heart seems to beat to the tune of the ages. All that is unimportant falls away like a grain of sand swept away by the wind and that which is important, that which is truly important, is stamped on your soul as obvious as the wake that trails behind you as far as the eye can see.
I pray that you find these places. They are everywhere if you would only look.