08 May 2010

A Moment of Bliss

It happened at 7:06 PM on 8 May 2010. I was driving my car through a residential area lush with trees just outside of the downtown district.  My car windows were open about halfway, letting in the perfect springtime temperature of about 72 degrees. It was somewhere between full daylight and not yet dusk, with the sun in front of me at about 45 degrees up in the sky.  On my car CD player, Miles Davis was trumpeting the tune "Just Squeeze Me."  The moment struck me: this is one of those fleeting, perfect moments. Beauty in the ear, beauty in the eyes and in the perfect springtime weather.  Then it got even better:  a shaft of sunlight was falling through the trees just ahead of my car and, though it was springtime, not autumn, something - perhaps chaff of new springtime leaf buds - was falling off the trees and fluttering slowly through the light like celebratory confetti. As I drove through this I raised both hands like a winner in victory, and in celebration and revery for the moment.  Miles blew a fanfare on his horn.

We must be sensitive to the nuances of our environment because sometimes light and nature and everything come together in little moments of perfect harmony.  It would be a shame to spend one's life missing so much potential beauty by not opening our eyes until we reach our destination. Beauty also happens on the way to the art gallery.