I picked my wife up from work a couple of evenings ago. It hadn’t been a great day; the weather was dull flat, that same grey that seems to have hung around since Christmas.
The car park was pretty full but I found a space to pull into.
As always I was ten minutes early and she was fifteen minutes late.
With nothing much else to do I just sat in the car thinking the usual stuff I think about these days, dull flat grey stuff - when out of nowhere a Thrush began to sing. I listened to its song for a while and then opened the window to hear it better, letting in the high clear notes and the cold clear air as well.
The combination of sound, bitter late afternoon air and (looking up) the wonderfully changing light that seemed to slowly seep from the grey flatness of the sky captured me and I found myself in the moment.
Yes, the moment.
You may know what I mean, that moment of tranquil quiet that sometimes arrives for no reason at all. That moment that you have no reason to feel. That moment when circumstance and concerns are almost forgotten as you’re carried away by something bigger, something as vast as the sky and as clear as the air and the birdsong.
I sat wondering at the colour, my sight filled with the vastness above, listening to the music, feeling cold against my skin, and then three small words appeared - drawn on the white board of my mind.
Hope. Springs. Eternal.
Hope springs eternal, corny I know but glancing up I saw another me reflected in the driving mirror - and he was smiling.