Homebodies - The beauty of creation
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- Published on Sunday, March 22, 2015
By Rita Friesen
It was two of the AM when the soft whimper at my bedside alerted me to the fact that – once again- it would be wise to escort my four-footed friends outdoors. And so, reluctantly, I rose from warmth of my nest and staggered to the door.
This particular night my loyalty to my pets was well rewarded. Above me and to the north, the sky was brilliant with the colours of the Northern Lights. This phenomenon is one of my favourite natural wonders. Angels dancing across the vast ballroom floor, gowns swirling and swishing.
In the article of what Helen Keller would want to see if she had the gift of sight for three brief days, the first day she would gaze on the faces of her loved ones and fill her mind with the beauty of nature. She concludes that that night she would be so filled with emotion that sleep would be elusive, and that would be all right. Thinking of the beauty of the night that I was a part of, I wondered what words could capture the images, What words could give someone who had never seen colours or movement, the sense of the wonder of the aurora borealis?
I found some words for my points of reference. It was as if I was in the center of an inverted opalescent bowl. Soft shades of green and blue curled and flowed above me.
The sky was aglow as if all the fireflies in my world had gathered for a celebration. There was no need for the feeble glow of my battery-operated flashlight. There was no sound, not up above or on the ground. I was simply present for the time. It was the impatient tugging of Mr. Hoover and Miss Daisy that brought me back to reality and my cocoon of blankets. ‘My little dogs must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near’. (Sorry Robert Frost!)
Before sleep recaptured me I deliberated on other scenes of beauty that words cannot truly express. The scenes called to mind would differ for each of us. Two came to my mind before slumber ruled. A trail walk on a perfect fall day. The sky is a blue so intense it hurts the heart. The trees are decked in glorious tones of gold and red, with just enough browns to make the beauty bearable. There is a rustle of the dry leaves as a gentle breeze brings the fragrance of acorns and pinecones. Sitting on the dock at a lake, water lapping, the dock rising and falling with the movement of the waves. Feet dangling into the cooling depths, face upturned to catch the warmth of the summer sun. Simply being.
With these images of the beauty of creation filling my soul and spirit, sleep was sweet.
