This morning something was different, yet nothing had changed.
I sat alone facing the window, its large frame of early light flooding the living room. I sat quietly, letting the minutes between breakfast and my departure for work wash over me with a rare silence and sense of calm. A silence and sense of calm that almost felt new, unfamiliar.
So what was new? What was the difference? The difference was one bird, singing. A bird singing alone, hidden somewhere in the hedge just on the other side of the window; singing out into the cool morning air beneath a blue sky.
The blue sky didn’t last long. But the song stays with me.
That same sense of quiet calm came on unexpectedly. But it’s the very sort of thing that, until recently, I almost lived by. Those snatches of undistracted time, those precious minutes – where had they been for the past few months? The truth is they were always there; I simply didn’t allow myself to meet them; for too long I hadn’t made that space and time a part of my normal day.
One bird, perfectly unconscious of the subtle music in its voice, brought all of the above to my attention.
I think this is something we need to bear in mind all year, not just for summer or autumn or any one season. It’s easy for us to fall back into grey, stressful periods between holidays. Of course we can’t necessarily expect these periods to be just as bright as when we’re on holiday, otherwise our holidays wouldn’t be so special. But we need to remember that no matter the day, no matter the colour in the sky, there are moments there, quiet vacant moments for the taking. We have only to seek them out.
The clearer and quieter rewards for doing so will speak for themselves.