This morning I walked the brisk three miles from the health clinic in La Orotava to my house in Santa Ursula. As I walked, I was overwhelmed with the simple sounds of early morning life. The sweet melody of the caged song birds perched on balconies. The soft and barely audible howl of a Husky lamenting the lack of frost and snow. The TAKK…TAAk…TTak…tak…of a workman’s hammer bouncing off the canyon walls. The whir of a blade coming from behind the sausage factory’s wall. The THROOOOM of the city bus as it zoomed a few inches from my shoulder, whipping my hair violently across my face. The baying of hungry goats rummaging along the mountainside. The steady hum cars shuttling tired workers to their daily grind. The strange absence of sound from the ocean that is ever present and never heard. All of this swirling together to form the steady pulse of life—life sustained by the heart of God.