brilliant

What are the chances that it would rain for the very ten minutes—no more and no less—that it took me to walk from our house to the coffee shop where I had a meeting? And yet that's exactly what it did. The minute I stepped out of my door a light sprinkle started. It intensified until, about 1/3 of the way there I had to stop to put on my rain poncho. I slogged the rest of the way in the downpour, which lightened and then ceased as I opened the door of the coffee shop.

Bizarre. However, the woman I was meeting had it worse. She got caught out in the precipitation, too, but was on a bicycle and didn't have a rain poncho.

I did not take my camera with me, because the skies were gray and threatening. On one hand I was glad I hadn't, because I did indeed get caught in the rain. On the other hand, as I turned toward home a few hours later, the sky was breath-takingly brilliant.

The dark storm clouds had moved on to the east and there were still agitated clouds churning overhead. But as the sun lowered in the west it broke through the cloud cover, casting a peach hue out over the land. When I looked toward the east—sun behind me—every building, lamp post, tree, person was bathed in this golden glow and stood out in sharp contrast against the deep, dense indigo storm clouds. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. Everything seemed more brilliant, more saturated, more alive.

Then I regretted not having my camera. Not being able to capture this moment forever. But then I wondered, what did people do before cameras? How did they immortalize a moment so that they wouldn't forget it? And so I stopped and stared, trying to memorize every details. Trying to take it all in.

I figure they also did what I'm doing now—record the event in one of the few ways available to them—grasping, groping for words adequate to paint a picture. Not only preserving the memory for themselves, but also sharing it with others.

This is good practice. A good discipline. A dying art.

I am glad I'm being stretched and challenged to capture that scene with words. In some ways it makes it an even more beautiful memory. But I still wish I had a photo. :-)