Where the sun breaks through

I have seen the sun break through

to illuminate a small field

for a while, and gone my way

and forgotten it.

R.S Thomas The Bright Field
(https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/T/ThomasRS/BrightField/index.html), 10 09 23, 19:00pm

I usually swim early early in the morning at a local pool. I love swimming and get excited at the thought of it; the smell of chlorine on my swimming costume makes me dizzy! The drive to the pool is a treat. The roads are empty early in the morning and I look over at the Severn estuary. The last part of the journey is along a single track lane and slides down a verdant tunnel of trees and hedgerows, home to robins, blackbirds and hedge sparrows. Early in the year, I stare at the cold beauty of crisp January sunrises.

Recently I missed my early morning swim, but it worked out that I could go later in the day. It had been sunny day and there was an hour or so of daylight left, but the tired sun was slowly, sliding down the horizon to rest behind the hills. I was tired too, but ready for a swim and, as I drove I was thinking of what I would do later, after my swim, when I got home.

But then I turned into the final lane, the usual green and leafy arbour was resplendent yellow. The low rays of the setting sun were catching the hedge leaves and, Midas-like, turning them to gold.

It was then I knew I had a choice. I could carry on, drive along and admire the view through my car windows. I was tired and even the evening was pushing along into night time. There was a swim to do, a drive home, a meal, bedtime – all ready for work the next day.

Or, I could stop, pause, and take it in for a while.

I looked in the rear view mirror – no one, just a long and empty lane. I slowed the car to a stop, opened my driver’s door, stood up and … looked. I looked as the end of day rays set the foliage aflame. For a moment, as brief as a second, yet deep as an ocean, I lost myself in the glow, like when staring into a dancing bonfire, tapping into some primitive fascination of the mystery of fire.

Finally, it was over. I got back in and drove on to the pool. I changed and swam, but with each stroke couldn’t get the picture out of my mind. What had I gained by stopping and looking? I could not keep it. It had no monetary value. It was fleeting. I could not share it with anyone. It was only seen by me, on that lonely road.

But it was a gift, fleeting in time, slipping like sand through my fingers, but etched eternally on my mind.

Life is so busy: tasks pressing, the next part of the journey calls us on, on, on. Sometimes it seems we are pulled along a series of dots, joining them up to make a picture that we don’t have time to see or understand. It makes us dizzy, disconnected, unwell.

I am learning, learning, learning, that it is good to stop and stay a while, ‘smell the roses’, watch the familiar hedgerow … as it glows. It is good to stop in work, though deadlines are pressing, and take a coffee break with someone in work, listen to how their day is going, connect with another soul. It is good to stop when walking my dog around my estate and say more than just a cursory ‘hi’ to my neighbour. To ask how they are, to look in their eyes, listen to their story. It is good, when I am tired and in a rush to get home with my shopping to smile at the person working at the check out, ask how their day is going, when does their shift end? It’s good to stop my busy – ness to look into the eyes of children, to listen to their request for a story, and slow my time to theirs and enter the world of wonder with them.

Why is it good? Well for one, it reminds me that this world is beautiful. That life is not rushing from dot to dot, but precious and surrounded by so many precious souls and moments, that are too easy to skim on by.

It also reminds me that this is what my loving Heavenly Father does with me. Oh dear Lord of infinite wonder, grace and beauty, Who put the stars and planets in their places, set galaxies in motion, and ‘yet He is mindful of me’ (1). Mindful of me – I am on HIs mind. So much so that He takes the time – (Ha!) – He comes into my time – to ask how I am. To look into my eyes, my heart, hear my story.

Sometimes I miss it; drive on by. Sometimes I forget it – like R.S Thomas says in his poem. But more and more I want to slow the car of my life to a halt, step out. Perhaps, just like an ancient shepherd (2) who turned aside to watch a burning bush, it will change my life, as I connect and stay connected with with the One who is Wonder itself.

(1) Psalm 115 v 12, https://biblehub.com/psalms/115-12.htm, 10 09 23, 19:00pm

(2) Exodus 3 v 3, (Moses at the burning bush) https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Exodus%203&version=NIV 10 09 23, 19:00pm