The dappled light of morning has to be one of my favourite things, particularly the gentle light this time of year, tempered as it is by the shadow of trees whose canopies create long, undulating shadows on the grass just outside my window—the beauty of low light. The whole scene reeks of quiet joy, contentment, warmth and transience. The light alters as the sun rises, brightens, temperature rising and mood shifting in time with the tempo of something I vaguely sense I am a part of, but can’t really claim to understand.
Happily, I am currently blessed by a life with room for such immersion, for engaging with these lusty, entertaining displays—for breathing and being.
For me, these moments underline the importance of living such that life’s natural opulence doesn’t get lost in the melee, but instead locates gaps where it might make a spontaneous appearance and bless us with the singular beauty of its presence.
Caring enough to curate in favour of this simple form of nourishment offers us an opportunity to reconnect, to plug in, to sense our inclusion in a passion and vitality much larger than ourself—something worthy of our wonder, reverence, respect and care.