The silence of the night is my friend

Good morning journal,the time is 6:03am;I have been awake since 5:10am,another bout of coughing,but thankfully,no need to be physically sick,a puff or two of my trusty inhaler and a hot coffee, being sufficient to restore my breathing to relative normality.This morning,I am relaxed,which strikes me as somewhat strange,as usually after being woken by attacks of coughing,it takes some time before my body adjusts to a level where I can feel okay,and the shaking settles.I still have the trembling in my hands for now,but it will calm in time,I have grown used to my body acting and reacting in weird ways, and it does not concern me greatly anymore,if truth be told,I am just grateful that it reacts at all;that at least signifies that I am still in the land of the living.I love the silence of the night,it's different from any quiet period during the hours of daylight,when the pace of the world still seems frantic and terribly rushed,with every man and his dog seeming to have to be somewhere else,before they've reached where they are now.These are times when I am tempted to cry out,"be still,your missing so much";but sadly,the world seems to pause only momentarily then carries on regardless.I remember when I still lived in Scotland many years ago now;I had risen early and decided to take an early morning walk,it was still dark,being winter,and a man could not only hear every breath he took,he could see it as well,great puffs of vapor being expelled from his mouth with every exhalation, due to the frost and chill of the approaching day.I happened to glance in the direction of some wild hedgerow,and then I saw him,he stared back at me unblinking and alert,waiting for my next move.I had never seen a fox so close before,he was beautiful,his chestnut colored coat and dark eyes a vibrant interloper in the drabness of winter.I stood where I was and stared into his eyes,like pools of liquid jet,and the world seemed to stop right there, as we both stood absolutely still and waited.After what seemed an eternity,mister fox decided that he'd seen enough,and with a sweep of his magnificent brush,he was gone;and I was left with a feeling of closeness to God,for beauty such as this, was indeed the creation of a divine artist and a master craftsman.Right now,here in my chair,the silence of the night has replicated that moment in time when I met "Sionnach",or,"madadh ruadh",in my mother tongue;the fox,or red dog.
    Now,as the grey light of dawn begins to supersede the dark of night,I am approaching the day ahead with an apprehensive positivity,physically I am not at my best,and mentally,although I am calm,there is an unknown fear floating around that I can't quite pull to the forefront of my mind.It is a strange sensation,somewhat akin to an itch which one knows one has,but yet can't quite locate the exact spot where it is situated;so I will wait for whatever "it" is, to either be revealed to me,or to dissipate into nothingness,whichever happens first.Enough for today journal,time to rest and just be grateful for this present moment,no doubt what is to be will be revealed as our day unfolds,till tomorrow then,may the peace of God dwell within us.