I arise early at dawn to fulfil my appointment with a moment of awe and wonder of nature. Record my dreams. Exit my bedroom door with pyjamas as my costume. I thought I had risen before Mother Sun. But she beat me. She’s already radiantly dressed. Too radiant for me. Her stunning rays occupying my bench. I seek shelter in the shadow of a nearby six-foot plant, protecting myself from her piercing sunrays.
As I anticipated, a steelpan orchestra of chirping birds performing for their audience of plants and trees. Several flocks of parrots gliding high in the sky, seemingly quarrelling, on their way to work. The morning air is still as a child in fright. Dogs refusing to be outperformed by the birds add their loud bark. A huge patch of cumulus and stratocumulus clouds seem to hear my disgust with Mother Sun, and briefly comes to my rescue providing some relief from Mother Sun’s rays. But, its inconsistency keeps me hiding in the cool shadow of my six-foot tall plant friend. What’s the morning without “human- made” noise – a few passing motor vehicles, the stop and start sounds of a nearby water pump, and the sound of a garbage truck.
I sit and allow myself to be enveloped by God’s morning creation with Cat Steven’s hymn, Morning Has Broken, as my internal background music. I end my moment of awe and wonder with the verse:
Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dew fall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass
By this time, it appears that the clouds have won the battle with Mother Sun. In my mind, I hear Mother Sun saying to the clouds, You’ve won the battle, but not the war. I ignore this private conversation between Mother Sun and the clouds. I simply bask in the awe of the moment, aware that nature’s philharmonic performance is like a pendulum. Then I thank and say goodbye to my friend, the shadow, and welcome on-stage brother wind whose air-condition-like temperature is a welcome joy.
By the end of my appointment with wonder and awe, the Mother Sun and her rays regain control, but the clouds release their own weaponry of a slight drizzle. Again, no complaints. I simply enjoy the dynamic play of nature – an icon of God’s revelation.
Beloved Reflections 