My day began with extraordinary moments this morning. Moments all the more wonderful for their simplicity.
Bundled into a bright red wool coat that I found at a second hand shop my first year living here, I cleaned the frost from the windshield and was driving to the farmer’s market around 7 AM. As I crested the hill at Morris and Queen, I could see the lava-coloured band of light that was blooming against night-blue on the horizon and all I could think was …Ohhhh…please wait for me! I want to be on the water and in front of the windows when you go full glory!
I found a spot, the first along the curb, and scooted in, heading straight for the back.
And I was not alone.
As soon as I’d left the car, I had called someone dear to me that I knew would be awake and would appreciate the wonder of the moment. I described it to her as I stood there and we shared in its breathtaking display.
And I was not alone.
Many of the vendors who were still setting up and some of the early shoppers were also against the glass in an agreement of hushed awe. People were drawn to watch this sunrise and people were drawn together because of it. Gentle conversations were happening. “The best I’ve seen this year…”. “Look! There’s the loon! She’s back!” “Do you see that cloud? Look how full of light…”
I actually had a conversation about favourite sunrise moments with a woman I’ve come to greet almost every week because she works at the booth next to my favourite viewing/sitting spot. One of the guys at the bakery stand against the harbour pulled out his phone while I was picking out an apple turnover and he showed me the photo he’d managed to get without the reflection of interior lights. There was an older couple holding hands and staring quietly.
I told the woman at the booth next to my favourite spot— It just seems wrong to turn my back on this…I want to face it full-on.
As I stood there…with others beside me, with others in heart…People who didn’t necessarily know each other…drawn together by beauty, held together by a marvel of nature, captivated and quiet and there together in palpable harmony… I thought about the world.
The world, rife with violence, injustice, assassinations, bombastic political rhetoric…
I thought about the world and wondered what would happen if just for a moment in our days, we were caught up together in simple extraordinary beauty and not bombs of one sort or another. What if we could behold something of astounding grace and wish that our neighbour had that same chance because we know what it feels like inside us and believe that the feeling of fullness and awe is not diminished in the sharing but multiplied yet again instead?
Not long ago I read a quotation that resonated with me— “Do the good that is in front of you, even if it feels very small.” —Sharon Salzberg
I’d tried writing a blog post about that but what came out felt too trite, even for what could feel like a greeting card quotation, that I’d read on Social Media.
This morning, though… Those few very small moments of shared marvel…a slim fraction of time…sharing them…listening to others in the midst of such beauty…conversing with both strangers and those known and dear, about it…
It feels like good was done.
And glory, for the sake of our world, I desire that good to spread like the swirling intensely-toned colours that danced on the dawning sky over Halifax harbour this morning…