Story of my day

For some, this day began rather grey and gloomy.  But not for me.  I know how this day really began.  For the Great Creator called me out to see His masterpiece this morning.

 It all began around 5:00 with one of my kids not feeling well.  I was just settled back in bed when I heard, “Mom”.  Even as I went to check on the voice I wondered if it were God.  He’s done this before.  Sure enough, everyone was sound asleep.  I tiptoed downstairs, scrounged around and found a pair of my son’s socks to wear, got on my shoes, grabbed my keys and left.

As I started down the sidewalk, with anticipation of what God had in store, I looked at the sky.  Cloudy.  It started to drizzle lightly.  “Oh, no,” I thought to myself.  “I’m not dressed for this.”  I pressed on, eager to see what was next.  I crossed Main Street.  There was a clearing near the horizon.  Promising.

I stop just short of Redwood Bridge and lean against a power pole, feeling conspicuous as I wait.  Suddenly I see them.  The clouds, first bluish-grey, are now tinged with just a hint of dark red.

The breeze is chilling me and the rain is still lightly falling.  I step down a few feet near some trees and gain shelter.

It is the perfect view: winding river, expansive sky, and tree silhouettes to frame it all.  Minute by minute the red glow is brightening, then second by second.  It is almost as if a dimmer switch were cranking up the sunlight.  Now everything in front of me is glowing in a coral-red colour: both clouds and water.  Backing up a little, I turn to see the rest of the sky.  Swirls of pink form a canopy over Main Street and the Orthodox Cathedral’s domes are softly illuminated.

I am in awe, struck by the incredible beauty surrounding me, and by a God who would invite me to witness it.  A few geese break the silence with insistent honks.  They skim the water, land, and swim toward the sunrise.  I stand entranced as red turns to orange.  I descend the slope as more geese call out.  The tops of trees are highlighted now and a building downriver is completely bathed in gold. 

The sunlight is pouring onto the willows on the riverbank and I decide I want that light on my face.  I walk upriver until I see it.  The huge ball of fire on the horizon.  The light is blinding.  I cannot even face it at its brightest.

Something catches my eye.  There is a dance going on.  Light has just begun to hit the top of the bridge.  The pigeons are awakening.  Twenty of them fly up from under the bridge and their fluttering wings catch the light as they circle and land.  I wonder if they like the feeling of the light so much that they spend the extra time dancing in it.  More and more birds leave their night nest and join the others in their front row sunrise seats.  Is it a morning ritual for them?

The colour has left most of the sky and shifted to yellowish-white.  I walk past the paddleboats and up into St. John’s Park.  A shaft of light gilds the edges of trees and low-lying plants.  Something in me knows to turn around.  The cross over Holy Family nursing home is a brilliant white against a background of blue.  “Light of the world, you stepped down into darkness”.  The words of a song flash into my mind.  Incredible.

I turn back toward the sun once again.  My time is nearly done.  I decide to walk through the park.  The flowers are beautiful and I am thankful for this green space tucked into the North End.  I look back up at the cross.  Its shining moment is over.  I pass the Cathedral.  The smell of donuts wafts in the air.  Dull, grey clouds surround me now and I thank God for his gifts to me this morning.

From now on, when I wake up with gloomy thoughts to match the sky, I will remember.  It’s quite possible that I’ve only just missed seeing the light.  But it was there.  And it was beautiful.  

Each day has promise.

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