The other day I had the chance to stand still for a moment. It was at a small overlook near the Grosse Point Lighthouse in Evanston, Illinois. The view, framed by trees, was that of Lake Michigan. The weather, perfect, with a light easterly breeze coming cool off the water. It was one of those very rare moments when it felt like everything came to a halt. There was a young woman also at the overlook. She had paused from riding a bike along the shore and she sat on a bench. Her arms entwined her bike protectively and she rested her chin on the seat of it, gazing out over the waters. She, too, caught in the moment. I left her to her reverie and stood by the overlook’s rail. I spread my arms out, allowing my hands to brace me as I too, gazed out over the view.
It was a perfect view, I thought. I stopped thinking about what was bothering me in the world. The sun was high above the clouds and here and there, the waters were dappled with crystal bedecked, sparkling waves. Deep pools of azure were off in the distance, where the shadow of a lofty cumulus slowly worked its way toward the far shore of Michigan. Peaceful, sunny, cloudy, magical in all of its tones and colors. Cool, yet not chilling. The sounds of children at the nearby beach intermingling with the cheerful, choppy slap of the waves against the breakwater stone. All of that is noted in my mind, but not noted at all as I was not observing, but just being. A young teenage girl approached and looked quickly at the scene. Too young perhaps to be able to be present in the moment, she flicked out her phone and took a quick picture. Then she headed off down the path with her friend.
The click of her camera phone was all it took to break the spell the moment had on me. I sighed and looked one more time over the scene. I took my camera and quietly shot a picture, thinking that perhaps I could paint it in the future. But I doubt I would be able to capture that what I just had experienced.
The young woman had left while I was in my own moment on the overlook. I was now alone and as I turned away from the scene of the lake, I observed dark rain clouds coming in from the west. The beautiful moment, lasting longer than a moment ever should, of a playful, joyful natural scene was soon to be no more. Like everything in life, it was fleeting and soon a thick gray, sullen wash of rain would sweep the magical canvas clean forever.
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