Such is the generation that seeks him,
that seeks the face of the God of Jacob.
Continuing with Crosby, Celibacy, Miller, Dorothy Day. A chapter a day, or half a chapter of each, and I am satisfied. Catching up with my Catholic periodicals, which come every week or every other week. Sometimes they come one day after the other.
This morning, a joyous, spirited Mass for All Saints. Good singing and good preaching. The pleasing odor of incense. Sunlight pouring through the chapel. Hearts were truly lifted up to God.
Today, the trip to Oso Flaco. Walking at an easy pace through thickets to a bridge crossing the lake, with scenic overlooks along the way. Saw families of ducks and many little ducklings. So calm and undisturbed a scene. On the other side of the lake, the bridge became a boardwalk taking us through the dunes past tall and deep shrubbery and many varieties of wildflowers to the ocean. We felt like we had been miniaturized as we walked through the flora, which so thoroughly carpeted the terrain. Once at the seashore, we walked as far as we could in both directions before turning back. We must have covered five to six miles today. On the way home, a late lunch at a Mexican restaurant in Guadalupe, where we visited the Catholic Worker community a few weeks ago. In all, a fine afternoon of peace, light, and refreshment as we honored our ancestors in the faith and all the holy women and men from time ancient to the present moment, linked in eternity, where all time is as no time.
Turn your face to the ocean: the waters are great and the skies are cloudy. Turn your face to the land: the earth is dry and the sun is bright. Look down, and you see your shadow staying close to you. Look up, and you see the way to heaven.