A beautiful day, and a writerly exercise

Today has been a glorious day, the sort of day when you’re grateful to be alive. I took a dozen photos, but then I thought: if I call myself a writer, I should be able to describe it in words. (If only I had kept up with my painting!) So what was special about today?

It started with a spectacular dawn, the sky streaked an irridescent mango-yellow and raincloud purple. Then suddenly the sun was up, like a bright, knowing eye turned on everything. There was a certain unusual quality of light today, a sharp yet soft brightness, a purity, that defined every object clearly and cast crisp, dark shadows. There was a fresh breeze that wafted sudden smells – of flowers, and grass, and overripe fruit. It briskly blew the clouds about; and the clouds, in the tenderly blue sky, were all kinds – delicate wisps of cirrus high above, matter–of-fact layers of stratus and puffs of brilliant white cumulus, with here and there a small glowering nimbus. One was in the shape of a baby elephant. The birds wheeling overhead seemed to delight in the air currents. The grass was emerald beneath the blue sky, and the sharply etched trees, rocks and the hills far and near were all shades of green and grey, blue and violet. I see these very trees and rocks and hills every day, and love them dearly, but today they had an other-worldly beauty. I almost felt like an alien discovering this blue-green planet.

Is this uplifted feeling purely a physical response to the weather conditions? Because Topshe was grinning right through her walk and Punk went mad and kept leaping at everyone like a small jaguar. But there’s something beyond that, a joy and gratitude for so much beauty, for the ability to enjoy it, which are  responses of the heart and mind. My senses are replete and my heart is full. Somehow, I think Topshe and Punkin might feel something of this too.

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5 responses to “A beautiful day, and a writerly exercise

  1. Yes, our God-given sensory perception and interpretation brings to life so much we either take for granted and shrug off, or ignore. When the truth of the world’s beauty insinuates itself into our interpretive faculties, we are infused with the irresistibility of divine beauty and divine intelligence. We can only begin to apprehend our own puny capacity.

    Liked by 1 person

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