We could have hurried home, as that was initially the plan, even though the distance yet to travel was not insignificant. After all, we had work to do.
But we didn’t. We lingered, watched, mesmerized.
Had we been in a hurry, we would have missed standing arm-in-arm as the sun slowly settled into the sea.
Had we been in a hurry, we would have missed seagulls lifting wings toward heaven as they stretched, and likewise gazed upon the changing hues of the darkening sky.
Had we been in a hurry, we would not have noticed the millions upon millions of tiny bubbles – like the stars in the sky that would soon appear – left on the sand by the departing tide.
Had we been in a hurry we would not have been struck by how cross-like the rail against which we leaned.
Had we been in a hurry we would not have had a sense of that which C.H. Spurgeon wrote in his book “Beside Still Waters – Words of Comfort for the Soul.” Nor would we have understood as much that which the Psalmist David wrote in Psalm 23 where commentators observe of such scenes, “waters so calm, gentle, and still, as to suggest the idea of repose.”
We would have missed it all.
Had we been in a hurry.
