One evening, I had just got off the train from Streatham Common, coming back from a yin yoga class and was pondering whether I liked it. Accustomed as I am to looking down at the pavement in thought, I decided to look up and see what my sister was talking about. And I saw it. I saw the sky. I mean, I really saw the sky. It's vastness, emptiness, it capability to hold weather formations and change rapidly according to atmospheric conditions. I saw it for what it is.
I think it has taken deprivation of it in the city to realise that I am falling in love with nature all over again. In that moment, I knew I had started a love affair. Even though I cannot comprehend the sky's immensity, I could understand its gift. As I stood looking up, I felt tears spring to my eyes and felt this deep deep love and union with nature. My heart just opened and I was humbled. I can't explain in words what happened to me except it felt like ecstasy; blissfulness. I stood, looking up, with tears flowing. On a non-descript street in Streatham I communed and wept. Some girls walked past me and started giggling, I overheard them say to each other, 'Is she on drugs?' I didn't care. I was there, a woman in her late thirties and I was really seeing the sky, and in that moment, I was high on life.
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