There was no one there. The rustling I heard was the wind running its fingers through the leaves of an oak, shaking brown leaves from among the green so that they fell slanting like rain.
It was one of those moments when you catch your breath and think, "If the earth can be this lovely, what will heaven be like?".
Where moments like this await us around every corner. Where each moment is free from even a hint of sorrow or fear. Where they slide into each other, moment after sunblown moment, until the years become one long story of joy.
image is by -Reji on flickr.com