As I was walking along the sun-baked sandy ground of Elizabeth Myers Park this morning I thought of the words of an old hymn, In the Bleak Midwinter. After a brief muse about how myths happen (the hymn is about Jesus being born in a stable all surrounded by snow and frozen cold, we don't know when Jesus was born but we can be pretty sure it wasn't in feet of snow in Israel) I looked around to see limpid pools of golden sunlight dappling the verdant trees. It was beautiful.
It was beautiful, and I was happy.
No weight on my soul, no worry in my head, no dream unfulfilled.
There must be people who feel like this on a regular basis, that without any particular difficulty they feel good. It is a very nice thing indeed that there are such people.
Now I am going to return to the park with my very spoiled dog, sit under a tree and work a little at learning The Battle March Medley on the mandolin.
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