Day 7 Lockdown in France

Day 7, already? Day 7, when will this end? How are we perceiving our confinement? Are we living from one day to the next waiting, hoping for this to stop or are we breathing life into our days? 

I watch the rain fall, on the banister of the terrace, the roof top of the neighbouring houses. The trees, all so majestic and tall, silent and in perfect surrender soak up the rain that falls all around us today. Low clouds cover the sides of the mountains, blanketing them in a misty wrap, while the mountain tops loom large, for don’t they always when there are clouds, up into the grey sky. Tap, tap, tap, tap. The rain falls. Peaceful. Graceful. Mysterious. Beautiful. The magnolia in my neighbour’s garden has almost finished blooming, and the last pink petals fall along with the rain to cover the soil in flowery splendour. A tiny sparrow in search of food, sweeps up and down the garden, avoiding the rain drops. 

Splattering, splashing, swishing, tapping: rain can be so musical. Different tunes, different rhythms. And if you reach out and cup your hand to capture some drops, bring your hand up to your face and smell the perfume of water. So much of grace/ Grace around us, either with a small “g” or capital “G,” you choose the one you need the most today. 

The prayers these days are different, different because I have no need to stop for it, I have no need to allocate time for it, no need to address it as such. The mind, the spirit is alive with every single breath, every single leaf that unfolds, every single raindrop. Today, as I listen to the rain, I choose Grace, I invite Grace into my life. 

A story of how the first colours reached water  

Down in the far south, where dark water meets land, every hundred years the water recedes to expose a cave carved into the side of the dank and damp cliff. When that happens, thousands and thousands of rainbow coloured fish swim out of the cave into the sea, splashing and clapping the water with their rainbow coloured fins until what remains is only froth and white bubbles, all shiny and splendid. After what seems like a few seconds but in reality, really is a few days, the water gushes back in, first gently then with one huge roar and closes the cave for the next hundred years. What happens to the fish, you might ask. For that, you have to travel over the water for three nights and three days and dive right in where the sea is the deepest and most beautiful. Where light is only a faint memory and you will see tiny shimmering of rainbow colours dance in perfect circles.        


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