I wonder if any of you remember an old black and white photo from years ago of a proud father walking a bride down a rubble-strewn street?
Last Saturday, for the first time in 1,300 posts, I found myself unable to write this blog. It had been one of the worst weeks for news that I had known in my 60 years, culminating in the heartbreaking scenes from Nice, disturbing actions in Turkey and locally, an arrest of a partner for the murder of an author in Royston.
My problem, at 4.30am on Saturday morning, was how to write anything that wasn’t trite or irrelevant. So I wrote nothing and went off down to the car boot sale I run, on a dull, cloudy and unpromising morning.
After a couple of hours, the sun began to poke through the clouds and the world started to look a little better. After a quick chat with customers, much based on the events of the week, I handed over to my son-in-law in order to go home to get ready to go to a wedding.
On the journey, the sun grew brighter and despite the stop start traffic on the M25 motorway, spirits rose.
The sight of friend Wayne, walking his beautiful daughter, Lisa, down the aisle finally banished all clouds from the sky, all troubles were forgotten and happiness prevailed.
Lisa and Matt’s infectious joy and love flooded the wedding, one of the happiest I’ve had the privilege to be invited to. The sun shone, everyone smiled and the sound of laughter filled the air on a truly wonderful Saturday afternoon.
So as I sit here on a beautifully sunny Monday morning, I have to thank Lisa and Matt and their families and friends, for reminding us all that life continues and that there can always be found beauty, joy and hope amongst the rubble of our world.
© Baldock Bard 2016
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