It is said that a person’s being awestruck leads to moments of contemplation – whether expected or intended, or not.
And contemplation quietly leads us to the paths of humility before a greatness that is largely incomprehensible – and staggeringly beautiful – and often appearing to us in ways that seem entirely accidental.
By way of just such an ‘accident’ the beautifully made film hereunder has hushed, humbled and touched my day …
Does an ocean contemplate? Perhaps it should not very much surprise that the Moon that governs the ebb and flow of the tides I love to watch also touches the ocean-soul of my ‘thought,’ and ‘time,’ and ‘light,’ and ‘dark,’ and ‘my’ ongoing, reaching, being, contemplation 🙂
What is it about light that draws me so powerfully? I can’t say just now, at least not in a few words. I only know that it does. All day, every day. And in moonlit night too. In the course of my supper tonight I’ve been awestruck by the movement of the light every fifteen to thirty seconds, here at Holyrood Park in Edinburgh. And whilst there are zillions of such views and opportunities all over the earth, I’m grateful every day to be in one place, often enough, for long enough, to feel myself a part of one of this world’s stupefyingly beautiful ‘works’ of art. The movement of the light across The Crags and Arthur’s Seat – from the sun’s rising to its setting – makes me glad to be alive!
Trees, plants and flowers are not alone in celebrating Edinburgh warmth and sunlight today. Everything has a ‘Spring’ to it, and with lockdown restrictions due to ease considerably from next Monday there’s a real spirit of anticipation in the air – shop fronts being swept and washed-down, window ledges being painted, in anticipation of hardly-dared hoped-for reopenings. Yes, Spring is Spring in more than one sense this year 🌱
… and then again when I read his then current favourite line from Anne Lamott.
Thanks Matt. Thanks Anne. Thanks Jane Austen, Mary Oliver, Yung Pueblo, David Whyte, Brianna Wiest, and to all who encourage, feed, nourish and sustain us – though all too often you cannot know how much you mean to your readers and fellow travellers. Thank you! 😊x
The sheer majesty of the natural world sets imagination alight – and was certainly a perfect, tranquil setting for the lovely walk I’ve enjoyed in excellent company today. Our conversation touched upon allsorts, including the Funeral for Prince Philip at Windsor. I wonder if that’s why I ‘saw’ a flight of angels in cloud art in the photo hereunder?
Lambs calling out ‘Mmmaaaammm’ notwithstanding, there’s a deep, deep silence to be heard and felt on a sunny, still day on the shores of Ullswater. It facilitates my hearing something of the deep, deep reflective silence somewhere, sometimes, in the centre of me …