A few miles from our house, Lake Marburg lies sprawled among the forests of Codorus State Park. Near the lake, several sections of woods have been cleared of all their underbrush, leaving a floor of soft grass canopied by treetops, making them especially conducive to wandering. Stepping into them evokes feelings that I imagine to be akin to those of stumbling through a wardrobe or plummeting down a rabbit hole: once inside, it's apparent one has entered a very different place.

  

I particularly enjoy being there in the evenings at eight o'clock, when for several minutes the rustle of leaves is accompanied by soft chiming. Peeking through the tree line reveals an old brick church, its bells playing even older hymns. 

 

It is indeed a sacred space, though it's not the reverent music that makes it so.   

Even a stroll through the silent trees may be an act of worship.