There was something wrong… something missing from the world as I walked the few paces to the car. I couldn’t put my finger on it at all, but I was very clear on the essential fact. There was something … different.
It wasn’t until I turned the key in the ignition that I realised what it was; it had stopped raining. And the sky was clear.
The rain has been almost constant for weeks now. The area in which I live has little in the way of rivers. Usually, I miss them and would wish for more. I know of no natural waterfalls around here at all and the streams are no more than tiny, silver threads. At present, though, they are roiling, muddy streaks, spilling over into the flood plains and sodden fields. Other parts of the country have not been so lucky and the constant influx of water has caused an incredible amount of damage and heartache.
So the clear skies and cessation of rain were a welcome change, even if it had taken me a few moments to pinpoint what was different this morning.
What surprised me the most was not the transient burst of sunshine, but my own acceptance that the bad weather was the norm. It may be England, but even here winter is not normally uniformly grey and wet. We have glorious frosty mornings with pristine skies and soft dawns too. We had even had one a few days ago. But… the pallid shades of gloom have settled in to become ‘normal’ somehow.
It is not unusual though; life itself often takes on those grey shades where the clouds loom dark and heavy, carrying worries and stress in their nondescript pall. That too can very quickly become the norm and its very familiarity comforting in a strange and perverse way. We don’t always notice when the clouds lift from our days here either… it just feels odd and unusual… possibly uncomfortably so; just because it is different and we know that, but cannot see why… and do not stop to enjoy the moment.
The sunshine was beautiful, but it didn’t last long. By the time I had driven the five miles to work through the early morning traffic, the skies had darkened once more and the clouds were speeding to cover the cold blue, positioning themselves to release the heavy rain and hailstones they were carrying. Even so, seeing the colours of the dark, rain-damp earth stark against the greens and russets of winter, watching the sparkle and sheen of the rain capture the sunlight as the birds played in the morning air… seeing the first touches of spring green highlighted by the sun… it had made my heart sing.
I wondered how often in the grey monotony of life we miss such moments, as I had ‘missed’ understanding the changed weather, just because we are so used to what we know that we can no longer see or appreciate those flashes of beauty that can come in to illuminate our days at any moment.