A lot of time spent in the outdoors sharpened his hearing to both the voices of the wilderness environment and the human tongue. He learned the voices of the wind and waves and of the water in creeek, river and sky. He knew the voice of red dawn and golden twilight with daytime sounds sandwiched between. Night sounds were as familiar as the beating of his heart, the almost silent beating wings of an owl in flight and the mouse cry in fear of the voice of death. He even heard the voice of shadows of the trees as they moved with moonlights path and the sap running life into the trees, shrubs and grasses. The voice of the flowering bud opening into full bloom was a sweet song. The storms voice was heard a long way off. He heard the voice of falling snow and the beauty of butterfly wings. He heard it all because it was only one voice, the voice of God. " By Dick Bogue 
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