I fell in love with Secret Garden’s song Powered by Nature as soon as I heard it (lyrics here). It makes me remember the times nature has touched my heart and once again reminded me of the greatness of God’s creations. “I’m powered by mountains, they make me feel so small, so I can seize the wonder and the greatness of it all…I know I’m a part of God’s great universe!” Often throughout my travels, I like to pause and just let the serenity of nature surround me. Then I am thankful that God granted me this big big world to explore, to experience, to enjoy.
No lavenders in Provence nor tulips in Keukenhof this year, but what a blessing it was to see the sunflower fields last week, row on row, stretching without end towards the blue sky, beyond the vast horizon. To be in touch with nature in its purest form, to listen to the voice of the truest beauty speaking through the wind – such marvel and awe. This was in the midst of a trip to the Royan zoo, two hours away from Bordeaux. If anything was worth the trouble of going all the way, this was it. (By the way, I almost fainted from this indescribable beauty…it was way beyond anything words can hope to convey.)
Leafs with brown spots against a midsummer sky in Brussels, 2012. Somehow those spots look like insects ready to munch their way into the core of each leaf…
A couple of weeks ago, Bordeaux was hit was some severe heatwaves. They’ve died down for now, but I’m sure there are more to come this summer. Maybe this leaf couldn’t stand the heat of summer. Maybe it wanted autumn to come so desperately that it has already turned yellow, despite its jolly green buddies surrounding it.
Sometimes I am amazed at how strong these little flowers are. You’d think that the violent rain would wipe away its life in a single strike, but these guys have quite the stamina and endurance. Drops of rain remain to mark their struggles through the tempest, but in the end, they are still alive.
This purple flower outside my lab was often visited by bees. One day I finally managed to snap a photo of one oblivious bee. It was probably too busy making friends with the flower to notice me 😉
I took a similar picture from the exact same angle almost two years ago, but last time, it was a double rainbow. That afternoon, it rained. Before the sun decided to rest, it sent us its last gift of the day, this lovely rainbow. A few minutes later, the rainbow disappeared and the sky was painted in a burning purple hue. It was just gorgeous.
I don’t usually wake up very early in the morning (except for this one rare time), and that’s how I miss the beauties of the first lights of dawn. The sky burns with a glowing pink hue in a distance, indicating the start of another day filled with hope.
Bordeaux has the most mystic and magnificent clouds out of all the cities I’ve been to. They come in different shapes and colours, and sometimes it seems like they have the ability to devour sunlight and wrap themselves around the entire city. But really, did they truly believe that they could engulf the sun, the rays of life?
I will end this post with one of my favourite quotations, by Henry Miller: “The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” (Same goes to this lonely little flower, waving in the cold wind, enduring the first snow of a late winter season…)