I sat at the corner of the kitchen island at 6:42 AM eating breakfast, and gazed towards the hall, and the dining room beyond, a shine caught my eye. The sparkle comes and goes, there, then not. I realized that it was the morning sun reflecting on the Grandfather clock’s pendulum, so that not only the pendulum shines, but the reflection goes out into the hallway flashing gold here, then gone, here, then gone. It’s a tiny golden road in the middle of the hallway that lasts only seconds at a time.
I’ve lived in this house for twelve years and never noticed this before. There is always more to see and notice in the everyday surroundings. The old isn’t just made new again, it is new. Because I’m not rediscovering the shine of the clock as it paces the hallway, but seeing it for the very first time. By 6:48 AM it is almost gone from the hallway, as if the shining path of light were never there at all, only the gold of the pendulum one hallway and room away still flashes at me, and even this is beginning to fade.
What chance that I would sit here at exactly the right time to see our grandfather clock paint a golden road down our hallway for a few precious minutes? The effect has nearly vanished now at 6:52, but it was magical while it lasted.
So many artists bemoan that they don’t have a good idea, a different enough idea, but moments of beauty, surprise, wonderment, happen all around us, nearly constantly. Do not bemoan that you have no inspiration, open your senses see what is around you and understand that ordinary does not exist, anymore than extraordinary does. They are intermingled and waiting for the right person to notice them and see how truly special one quiet moment can be.