A beautiful spring day reigns supreme in my backyard. Mornings and evenings
have their charm but the afternoons have their own appeal. After lunch,
one feels contented and at peace. In the morning, one may be thinking of the day's plans. In the evening, night is approaching and it is time to retire. But on this Sunday afternoon, I feel that everything is in suspended animation. There is a sense of deep peace all around. I am sitting
under the umbrella and, well, just sitting actually. And that is all
that is really needed. To just sit and be still.
A benign sun is shining upon a cloudless pale blue sky. It is warm, but comfortably so. Under the shade I feel the soft caress of the cool breeze. All is quiet in the sense every sound simply belongs in the ambience. The ever garrulous birds are chirping away but less intensely than they do in the mornings. They are perhaps discussing the day's meal. The sound of cars going uphill in the main road a few block away is but a gentle hum and just adds the right backdrop. Even the neighbour's dogs are yelping in somewhat hushed manner or not at all. An occasional helicopter flying overhead strikes an incongruous note, a rumble of thunder on a cloudless sky. Closer to the ground, the humming bird flutters feverishly hovering over flowers. A garden lizard appears to be practicing push ups on the concrete floor but scurries away upon sensing the slightest movement. But despite the activity, taken as a whole, the whole world seems to be enjoying a siesta. Gentle notes of a classical guitar emanating from the house have a meditative effect further contributing to the peace felt.
There is nothing really special here. Just a small green patch with a few bushes around. A couple of trees providing shade. Nothing to make me run and fetch the camera and take a picture. Yet my mind wants the moment to last endlessly for the moment seems perfect. I realize with a little surprise that until this thought arose I had sort of forgotten myself.
Did my mind just intrude upon a perfect scene? No matter. For the mind has the capacity not only to savour the moment but also to save it and make it permanent. It captures everything. It will allow me to recall and immerse myself in this quiet golden afternoon again and again. There will be no need to fetch the album or tap the smartphone. All I'll need is the 'inward eye' as Wordsworth put it.
A benign sun is shining upon a cloudless pale blue sky. It is warm, but comfortably so. Under the shade I feel the soft caress of the cool breeze. All is quiet in the sense every sound simply belongs in the ambience. The ever garrulous birds are chirping away but less intensely than they do in the mornings. They are perhaps discussing the day's meal. The sound of cars going uphill in the main road a few block away is but a gentle hum and just adds the right backdrop. Even the neighbour's dogs are yelping in somewhat hushed manner or not at all. An occasional helicopter flying overhead strikes an incongruous note, a rumble of thunder on a cloudless sky. Closer to the ground, the humming bird flutters feverishly hovering over flowers. A garden lizard appears to be practicing push ups on the concrete floor but scurries away upon sensing the slightest movement. But despite the activity, taken as a whole, the whole world seems to be enjoying a siesta. Gentle notes of a classical guitar emanating from the house have a meditative effect further contributing to the peace felt.
There is nothing really special here. Just a small green patch with a few bushes around. A couple of trees providing shade. Nothing to make me run and fetch the camera and take a picture. Yet my mind wants the moment to last endlessly for the moment seems perfect. I realize with a little surprise that until this thought arose I had sort of forgotten myself.
Did my mind just intrude upon a perfect scene? No matter. For the mind has the capacity not only to savour the moment but also to save it and make it permanent. It captures everything. It will allow me to recall and immerse myself in this quiet golden afternoon again and again. There will be no need to fetch the album or tap the smartphone. All I'll need is the 'inward eye' as Wordsworth put it.
