THE UNATTENDED MOMENT

Winter holidays are over and summer holidays approach. My skiing days are long since past, but I do remember golden moments from such times - moments when time seemed to stop and loiter - strange contrasts too - The moment of doubt before you plunge down what seems an impossible slope - the intense exhilaration of speed - close to the boundaries between control and disaster - paralleled only by the poise on the top of the wave when surfing - and the sliding descent amongst the breakers - strange contrasts with the moment's pause and utter silence on a crest of a ridge in an Alpine range - eyes sweeping across the wide spread of snowy peaks.

Poets and authors have written about such moments, when time seems to stop, yet seems to go too quickly - moments which, once gone, we long to capture. Wordsworth called them “the unattended moment” - in the sense that they come unbidden; if we look for them, or wait for them, we won't find them. I have been arrested in such wonderful ways by collisions with wildlife. On a high ridge in Scotland, surrounded by huge boulders, clambering over and round and on them, in cloud so dense I could hardly see beyond the fourth stone - a cold, wet, filthy day, tired and feeling the call of a warm tent five miles off in the valley below - and a golden eagle, mere yards away, glided slowly past, 6 foot wing span quivering in the air, eyes fixed on me - then I heard and saw the great wings like a thumping heart beat as he swerved away.

On a sea-loch side, still, alone, watching the calm sea swell and subside, I saw only a few feet away, a sea-otter sliding for fun down a sea weed slope - entering the sea with barely a ripple - leaving only a trail of bubbles into the bay. We all find wonder in our own ways and I thank my God for the extraordinary range of such unattended moments - when beauty seems to grab you by the throat.

Treasure such moments. They can come in books, in music, in a film, in looking at a building, a painting, a new born baby asleep; in falling in love (and looking into someone's eyes).

But don't go out expecting them - they come not bidden;
If you grow old before your time and cynical;
If you scoff at those who stay awake and welcome them
You lose a large part of that which makes you human,
And opens just a glimpse of heaven.

Andy Shearn

What's next for Ginny?
Alice interviews her on page 7

What's afoot at the Yard?
See page 6 for the story so far

NSPCC Visits Wellesbourne
See page 5 for your own invitation