Lemons and Windows

At the end of Halls Road

"God never shuts a door, but he opens a window."

"When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade."

I think those two old sayings amount to pretty much the same thing, perhaps different sides of the same coin. Close enough anyway.

Today, the weather prevented us from doing what we had intended to do: drive to Algonquin Part. That was a little disappointing. However, the morning was still dry, if cloudy, so we seized the opportunity to — you guessed it — go on a little bicycle ride.

The things about a bicycle is that you stop hurrying, and life stops hurrying past you. So it was that we turned down a country road, about three kilometres south of us, that we had hitherto ignored in our myriad car-passings. The road, if it could be called that, was rather a nice ride in its own right. At one point, we, in effect, found ourselves riding under and through an arbour. Pretty nice stuff that!

The grove behind the house

The real treat, however, awaited us at the end of the trail. There was a wonderful view of the lake, the kind of view that I had searched for in vain yesterday. It was down a hill, and there was just enough of a clearing through the bush to see the water and the autumn-coloured shored on the far side (see the first photo above).

We got off our bikes and trespassed onto private property, just far enough to take a picture or two. Someone was home and asked us what we were doing but seemed comfortable with our answers and suggested another picture to take: of a grove of trees just behind the house (see the second photo). We even chatted amiably with the owner for a few moments before heading back home — just in time to beat the rain as it turned out.

So, I guess we made lemonade by doing something proactive to replace the big trip (we could have moped), and I guess that God (in the real or abstract — whichever your theological preference) opened an unexpected window. How satisfying!

How delightful life can be if we choose to take delight in it.