What floated through and what tossed up on the rocks while on retreat...
A church made of living stones - praying on the rocks, watching a bird that kept alighting on the rocks, finally realizing that the rocks were alive with insects, and the bird was feasting on the stones.
The dog that followed me on one of my walks, well-trained and at heel. It quietly left me when I headed down the road to the retreat house.
The Indiana Jones path to my prayer space: through the wild rose arbor, down the tunnel of trees, past the rushes, to the green encrusted rock, turn right at the Queen Anne's lace, step over the clover in bloom to walk down the basalt stairway - there to find the throne of God? or at least a bird's eye (literally) view of His waters. I could hear his voice on the immensity of waters as I sat there.
Praying with a quote from Jeremiah: a frantic she-camel bolts for the desert
The night someone threw incense on the fire in the common room.