It’s strange–the things which have no physical substance but which affect our lives. No one would doubt that shadows exist. When the sun shines on an object, that object casts a shadow. We can’t pick up the shadow or smell it or hear it, yet it is there.
When I was a very small girl, I feared nothing, not even the things I should have feared. I grew up hearing the story from a time when I was about two years old. I was with Dad as he got ready to ride his horse, Bill. Dad must have taken his eyes off me for an instant and when he glanced around, there I was, standing under Bill the stallion who was standing on his reins. Under the horse’s belly, I was tugging on the reins saying, “Get off, Billy. Get off.”
It didn’t take long for Dad to scoop me up and set me in a safe place. I had been in danger, but I was too young to realize it. Then, I went through a phase of being scared of many things, including shadows. Perhaps all children go through this phase. I think it’s due to an over-active imagination and not being able to sort out the real from the baseless. Finally, things evened out and hopefully now I’m a little better in judging the real danger from the imaginary.
Life does have shadows and sometimes those shadows lend depth and interest, as when the morning sun shines on trees and flowers. But sometimes those shadows are portents of coming events. The shadows are not to be feared but the object or event is a different matter. And sometimes a sad happening casts a shadow over an otherwise sunny day. I’ve found that prayer and Scripture and faith in our Heavenly Father is the sunshine that ultimately banishes these shadows.
When shadows are a portent, they can be a message that we should be alert and watchful. A shadow cast across our land by the threat of an evil thing called ISIS is a warning to be taken seriously. It is out there; it is evil, and we’d best be alert and arm ourselves with prayer and faith in the Lord.
And then, there’s that word, petrichor. Nothing at all fearful there, just a word that describes the indescribable, the wonderful, clean, enticing, mysterious scent when drops of rain strike the dry earth. Alpha dictionary says petrichor is that distinctive fragrance caused by “oily, yellow-gold globules that come from certain plants or the air itself.” All I know is I love that elusive aroma, the smell of rain. It is as elusive as a shadow, but, even though we can’t see or touch it, that fragrance is real.
Life has its sunshine, its shadows, its fragrant rainfalls. Ignoring the shadows won’t make them go away, but understanding their origin removes the panic and paralysis. And, petrichor? I don’t care if that smell of raindrops against a thirsty earth has a name or not. I just know that I love it!
Writing is a way of dealing with shadows (and creating a few new ones.) If you are looking for a Christmas gift for someone or for yourself, have you considered a cozy mystery?
The Darcy and Flora mother/daughter sleuth series include The Cemetery Club, Grave Shift, Best Left Buried, Grave Heritage.
Ned McNeil has her own moonlight series. The first two books are Moonlight Can Be Murder and By the Fright of the Silvery Moon. I’m working on a third, The Ghost of Moonlight Past.
I loved this one Blanche. For some reason, it really struck a chord with me this morning. Perhaps the memory of that wonderful smell of fresh rain on the earth.
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Peg. When my readers like what I write, it makes it worthwhile. Thanks for writing.