Majesty

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

1.

On a walk several days ago, I took this picture, but later, when I looked at it at home, I wasn’t exactly sure why. Now, though, I think I know the answer, and it has something to do with the word ‘majesty’. For sure, at first glance, the twisted webs of branches and the scattered stones and leaves seem far from majestic, but the longer I looked at the photo this morning, the more stateliness I noticed in the scene, the saplings and limbs seeming almost statuesque in their singular poses, and the stones sitting silently in an imposing, princely manner.

And then we have the queenly and kingly shadows of the couple who are observing the scene, escorted there perhaps by a royal procession of attendants and stewards. (Or, perhaps they walked briskly by themselves in a stylish and sovereign manner from their courtly country cottage called Riverbend 44.)

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2.

‘Glory be to God’ is a phrase I often heard growing up, but some mornings I think about ‘glory be to overflowing flower gardens’, and ‘glory be to blue skies’, and ‘glory be to a good cup of coffee’. I am not a member of a church, but I do worship the wonders of this world. I praise the  power of a few flowers to stay strong on frosty mornings, and I praise the power of my hands that helped me write these words. I give homage to the holy eggs which sizzle on our stove each morning, and accolades to sugar-free jam and the juiciness of raisins. I say glory be to the greatness of this moment, and to the majesty of our small house in Mystic, and to the magnificence of the birds on our feeder day after glorious day.

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3.

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4.

Our ‘majestic’ walk today …