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and then our exile

Sunday, September 11, 2005 at 8:48 p.m.

a few minutes before maghrib, the dusk prayer, i was trying to edit something for the winter issue of Islam & Science, when i was told to come downstairs to see something i had to see.

i stepped outside to a treeline touched with fire and with gold, yet-green autumn leaves tinged with otherworldly brilliance, dark sky beyond. that every muted being were given voice, as the setting sun painted the edges of this world.

(^ not actually the sun which painted but God Who painted, but.)

this afternoon i spent some time splitting logs for firewood.

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