Sun in my Face

The weather forecast is for a last blast of heat before the sun slips south. I don’t generally believe the forecast, so headed out on the morning trek suitably attired – eg, t-shirt, warm sweater and windbreaker. 

I stood in the field of weeds, shedding my layers, one by one – well, the top two anyway. And then I just settled, face to the sun, enjoying the massage on my sore sinuses, still trying to recover from a nasty cold. And I thought, sometimes praying is just standing still, breathing, basking in the Son. 

I’ve learned at least one lesson over these 35 years in Scotland. Carpe diem. When the children were small, in the summer holidays, as soon as a day like today unfolded, I dropped all unnecessary plans for the day, packed a picnic lunch, bundled the crew into the car (those were the days before everyone needed his own car seat and belt), dog in the boot, and we’d head for the river – either the Dee, or the Feugh, or maybe Rob Roy’s cavern. I am grateful that I was able to be a stay-at-home mum so that I had the freedom to do that with my kids.

I still seize the day, when gifted one like this morning, but my aims are more mundane and work-related now. I’ll try and replant some of the hundreds of tulip and daffodil bulbs we blithely dug up in early summer as we set out seedlings. 

But I will also stand in the sun and be still. Because in the trees, I can hear the caw of crows that reminds me autumn is waiting in the wings, with its winds and sharp edges.