I miss my Monchsberg often, paths winding to the full view of Alps laced in snow and pine and a kind of quiet that separates and slows.

Walking along the trails, the dark stairs, the muddy riverbeds and hollow canyons of Mathiessen State Park and Starved Rock, my heart found its way down into that quiet again, briefly.

“Are you okay?” he asks tentatively.

“Yes,” I smile, and mean it.

I am, because for once the quiet is deep enough to silence the noise, to pull me away from the trivialities, to bring me down into awe and wonder.

I sit on a rock and stare. I exhale echoes of gratitude.

Where does your heart find its quiet?