The train has just crossed over to the French side of the channel, and bright rays of the sun make their slanting way through a gap in the clouds. This is a beautiful sight, and evidently it has something to do with the high latitudes these countries are in – in comparison to India. In my mind, I have always called this phenomenon a cloudburst. It was a while before I realised that this is not really what the word conventionally meant. But this too was beaten by what a friend mentioned the other day – she suggested that this was the most physical proof of God's existence. As if there was this being of pure light who was shielded from us with layers of clouds...and when, from time to time, these rags give way, the light shines through, revealing the true nature of what lies beyond.
1 comment:
Beautiful. This type of light has always reminded me of this Emily Dickinson poem, a Certain Slant of Light:
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That opresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us--
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the meanings are--
None may teach it--Any--
'Tis the Seal Despair--
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air--
When it comes, the Landscape listens--
Shadows--hold their breath--
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death--
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