What does it take to be effortlessly stolen away from ‘yourself’; to not just be passively content, but to be enraptured? To feel that child-like, mischievous pleasure in reaping the utmost joy from a seemingly small moment. To the point where conventional etiquette, that we are so pressingly expected to maintain, is hastily pushed away and forgotten; to the point where we, quite literally, live and breathe for the moment.
Bewilderment, thrill, wonder, allure, adoration, intrigue and discovery. This potion of words expresses the intoxicating emotions and desires required to throw me into my most joyful state of mind; rapture. I have realised that, more often than not, a moment must enable me to experience all of these at once for me to be enraptured by it. To be ‘delighted beyond measure’, to be cast over by an ‘irresistible spell’, to be enchanted.
So far in my 26 year old life, I have only discovered two things which enrapture me; true love and Nature. Both captivating, unpredictable, and precious; the essence of each can be found reflected in the other. Subjective moments of true love and Nature entice the creativity out from within us; poetry, stories and art offer us an insight into the enchantment experienced by others in such moments.
For me, the essence of true love can be found in a particular moment in Nature; in the entre chien et loup eclipsing a British woodland. The entre chien et loup is the fleeting moment between day and night, in the low hanging sunlight of an emerging dusk. With a literal translation of ‘between dog and wolf’, the entre chien et loup softens the clarity of your sight; where creatures of the wilds can be seen, but become difficult to identify. The promise of hope and fear is therefore fabled to reside in the entre chien et loup, a promise which true love also offers.
How privileged we are for rapture to currently be so easily attainable; to have the freedom to retreat from pressures and routine into the enchantment of Nature, into the overlapping domain of true love. To be enraptured by the eyes of an urban Fox, in hearing the first Cuckoo of spring, in the boundless wonder of the night sky.
|Enraptured by the beauty of the Isle of Carna last week. Photo credit: Cain Scrimgeour.|