Another Atlantic storm passed over the country overnight, with strong winds and heavy rain. After the winds the stirring becomes quiet.

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me, like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.

Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.

Wendell Berry