It's 3:00 in the morning. All the other humans have long gone to bed and I am sitting in my living room at the desk, doing clay. My night job finished a couple of hours ago, so I am taking advantage of the personal time.

There is something about claying, the feel of the hard clay getting softer in my hands, the new colors that emerge, and perhaps most of all, a little spark of pride that my hands look as if they know exactly what they are doing.

I feel good about myself.

Funny, sometimes working with clay, feeling it getting warmer, watching it take shape, is exciting. I can't get enough of it.

Other times, like now, it calms me down, makes me feel as if I am getting in touch with a part of myself that is primal, hidden, secret, wonderful.

It's very quiet.

Suddenly, something calls my attention. I raise my head and look around.

What was it?

Over on the couch, a big black dog is sleeping where she shouldn't be, legs twitching in persuit of a dream rabbit, no doubt. The large orange cat is curled up peacefully on the footstool. I think I hear him snoring softly. The small black cat in my lap stretches and gives a burst of purr before she falls completely back to sleep.

The room is bathed in a golden light. The bookshelves are filled with mostly old friends, although there are some new friends on a shelf that are waiting to be discovered. Outside, a very sleepy bird is complaining, probably about a streetlight in it's face. The cat is still snoring.

What is it that called to me? Oh, yes. Now I recognize it.

It is called PEACE.

So Be It.