A Little Lower Than Angels
For today's excursion in Madeira I decided to make a sweep of one portion of her northwestern coastline. I visited quite a few sites, both down at the shore and up in the cliffs and mountains, and I think I will have plenty of photos to share. But being on the go all day leaves me little time to review, sift, cull, process, and curate pictures. Also, the physical demands of hiking in rough terrain takes quite a toll on a man my age. So at the end of each day, I'm exhausted and fried, both from physical exercise, and from spiritual, emotional overload.
I'm not a religious person in any traditional sense, but I am very much a spiritual being, who stands in awe before the glories of Nature, whether a night sky overflowing with stars, a newborn fawn tottering in the woods, or a vast mountain vista beside the sea. When I found this isolated spot along a cliff face this afternoon, and saw the view laid out before me, with not another soul around for miles, I am not ashamed to say that I cried: in part from the sheer enormity and beauty I was seeing, and in part because my wife, who loved mountains as much as I do, wasn't with me to share it. To my mind came the phrases of Psalm 8: "What is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour." And then the lyric of a song by Kris Kristofferson: "What have I ever done to deserve even one of the blessings I've known?"
I am unquestionably more than a little lower than the angels, yet I have had the astonishing good fortune in my life to see many wonderments, to experience many joys, and to know great and lifelong love. This journey I'm on at present is but one of many that leave me wondering, "Why me? Why should my life be so blessed with these amazing experiences?" I quite honestly am overwhelmed when I get to go to such places and see such things.
However, you would have laughed to see me out at this place today, this slightly wider spot on a very narrow road running along the top of the cliffs. When I squeezed the car over to the side and got out, the force of the wind nearly tore my arm off as it jerked the door from me. I thought the hinges might break. It had to be blowing 30 miles an hour, and gusting frequently much harder. Best of all, it was blowing directly out to sea! The edge of the cliff was only 15 feet from the side of the car, and I was not about to blithely walk over there when a gust could send me over the edge, to fall several hundred feet to the rocks and sea below. I got the camera out, put on a circular polarizer filter, and put the strap around my neck, all while sheltered in the car. Then I eased out and got down on all fours, and scooted on one hip, keeping very low to minimize my profile in the wind. When I got within three feet of the edge, I was able to lie on one side and line up shots satisfactorily, though even lying flat, the wind made it difficult to keep the camera steady.
But it was thrilling, and exhilarating, and wonderous, just to be there, and see what I was seeing. Seven or eight hours later, after many other adventures, I was back here in my apartment, flipping through the photos, and this one looked like a good candidate to post.