Wednesday, 27 July 2011

Perfect Moments

Do you ever have those days when you want to freeze a moment and hold it forever? Maybe you’re having a bad day and everything seems to be going wrong. Maybe you’re tired of rejection and want to give up.

Rather than dwell on disappointment, why not reach into the back of your mind and pluck out one of those perfect moments when all seems right with the world.

Some of my perfect moments:

Sitting back with a cold drink after I’ve mowed the back lawn. As the rapidly melting ice chirps in my glass, I look at the evenly cut blades of grass, inviting a picnic on its temporarily pristine surface. I never get around to the picnic, but the prospect is pleasing.

Late afternoon light when the breeze carries those little fluffy seeds. They look like backlit faeries dancing just for my enjoyment. I don't think of the weedy aftermath.

The beach – laughing children and the keening of gulls mingled with the smell of sunscreen. My toes push under the hot sand, finding a cool spot beneath.

That feeling when a plane accelerates on the tarmac and my head pushes against the back of my seat. The turbine engines roar, then their pitch rises to a “wheeeee,” as they carry me away to some exciting destination.

The warmth of the sun on huge slab of granite at the edge of a clear lake. I gaze at multicoloured lichen radiating from the cracks, and pick blueberries while a loon calls in the distance.

The first gentle snowfall, hopefully before Christmas. Light sparkles on it, reminding me of my childhood for some reason.

Taking out my grandmother’s rosary and watching the light bounce off the facets of its beads.

There. I feel much better now.


jjdebenedictis said...

Me too! :)

Sandra Cormier said...

I'll bet you listened to your ice cubes... said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Liane Spicer said...

Beauty and joy lie in moments like these when we pause to let them register.

The rosary beads gave me a jolt. My great-grandmother died when I was eighteen and I carry a rosary she gave me in my purse at all times. Very much like the one pictured, but with blue glass beads.

Sandra Cormier said...

When I handle those beads, it takes me zooming back to my nannie's Saint John flat.