Driving to my annual retreat at the start of this year was exhilarating. It is rare that I spend time alone, because I have always taken so much joy in caring for others. This particular occasion came out of a soul-call to, “Just GO…now!” for some time by myself. The Call was to take only paper and pens, and sit, listening in the quiet of solitariness, and in the arms of Nature. Nothing speaks as loudly as Nature, herself.On this day of driving for hours, I passed through Hood Canal, sped around the Olympic mountains, took in the glorious forever views of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and stopped to meditate at the blue-green glacial Crescent Lake. I giggled with glee as I came upon these white trees, not expecting snow at all but delighted with their frosty sparkles, stuck as if God herself had dipped the branching edges into glue and then into the angelic glitter pot of heaven. In five hours, I felt as though I had traveled around the world, for all the majesty I had been witness to.