At night, when the dogs are holed up in corners, and the sheep are in the pole barn, and the donkeys standing silently in the moonlight, standing guard, and the silence of the road is loud and clear, it is time to take a soft breath, and look ahead all of the good things not yet done, all the things not yet created.

  
   Walt Whitman saw it this way:

   “After the dazzle of the day is gone.
    Only the dark, dark night shows to my eyes in the stars.
    After the clangor of organ majestic, or chorus, or perfect band.
    Silent, athwart my soul, moves the symphony true.”

   It’s a beautiful thought, language and images from another time, but it still works. After the dazzle of the day is gone, it is the silence that is so true, and although my life is full of clangor it is now, at this time, that the symphony seems so true.