A funny thing happened on the way home.

It was an oddly euphoric moment of complete clarity.

The sun, low, casting great shadows across the landscape; highlighting features normally hidden from view. The first flowers of Spring, punctuating in yellow, the intense verdant of the season.

The sky, uncluttered blue, held aloft lazy seabirds surfing the cliff drawn breeze. Darker, the sea, unflecked and still, etched a clear horizon against a distant fog.

In the midst of all this, an instrumental started playing on the radio. I couldn’t quite place it, but the arrangement conjures growth, nurturing, the mother. The cadence seems to mirror the rise, fall, and turns in the road; the mood reflects the landscape as it reveals itself around each corner.

A couple of verses in I realise it’s Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years”, and I’m humming along, trying to remember the words:

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything, take away
What’s standing in front of me
Every breath, every hour has come to this

That’s when I knew, beyond every reasonable knowing. Immersed in the fullness of a perfect Spring day – everything is exactly as it should be…