Hello and welcome to Five Minutes in Nature with me Liz Scott.
I'm walking along the golden sands here at North Berwick.
This is right on the edge of the sea and as I'm walking the sun is starting to set.
There's a wonderful golden light.
The tide is out which has revealed the seaweed and the rocks and the birds are all in the rock pools.
Some of them I guess feeding,
Some of them washing.
There's a lot of activity as I look between the golden sands of the beach to the rocks and then the sea beyond.
It's been an absolutely glorious day here in Scotland and I've come down to the water's edge reflecting really.
I'm in a bit of a reflective mood.
There's something about the expanse of the water of the ocean that captivates me.
It feels like it soothes my soul.
It's strange to say that,
Isn't it?
But there's something about being beside water that has me release the tension that I might be holding.
And if you've been listening recently,
You'll know that my mum has been in hospital.
She's just got out of hospital now.
She had quite a nasty fall actually the other night.
Hit her head and lost a bit of blood and they wanted to keep her in hospital just to check she was okay.
And she's back home and she's got dementia and she's very ill.
Frail and elderly and there's something about just seeing her in a different state of vulnerability,
A different state of frailty that is unsettling if I'm honest.
I'm away at the moment so I can't physically see her but just knowing that that is the case and my dear siblings are doing a wonderful job to sort of get her back at home and keep her safe and keep looking after her.
But I've got to say that there's something about realising the frailty of life,
Not just the frailty of dear old mum,
But the frailty of life.
And there's something I feel as I look at the landscape here.
Where I really consider that,
Both the permanence and impermanence of what it is to be a human being.
And the sea is such a great example,
The ocean with the waves.
There's something that feels ancient about the ocean.
It feels like it's always there.
And the waves coming in,
Just sort of coming up,
Crushing over the rocks,
Racing up the beach.
And then the tides coming in faithfully,
Coming in and coming out every single day.
There's something about the reliability of the tides that feels as though it's like a heart beating or the ocean breathing.
So there's something about both permanence and impermanence when I look at the ocean.
And there's something about permanence and impermanence when I consider life.
This incident with Mum has just kind of brought that into sharper focus for me,
That real sense of the permanence of the spirit,
Of the energy,
Of the life energy,
That I see imbues everything.
This scene I'm looking at,
The sand,
The seaweed,
The rocks,
The gulls,
The islands I can see out there,
The clouds,
The sky,
The sunshine,
Everything is imbued with this energy that is ever-present.
Present,
It is eternal.
And also there is this sense of impermanence that we are not here for long in this human form and everything I see will shift and change in time.
And there's something about both permanent and impermanent,
Standing side by side,
Eternal and temporary,
That are also standing side by side.
And for me,
As I reflect on this,
I just allow my soul,
It feels a bit unsettled,
To breathe in deeply and to allow this scene to soothe me.
This is just a realization that both coexist.
Eternal and temporary,
Permanent and impermanent.
And actually,
The permanent that is ever-present is that permanence of love.
And just as I say that,
I really feel that as I say that to you this evening.
So let me know your reflections on this,
Both permanent,
Impermanent,
Temporary,
Eternal.
The ever-present nature of love.
What are your reflections on that?
And of course,
Don't forget to join me again tomorrow for another five minutes in nature.
