The air was cool and crisp, but not cold—the sun’s warmth kept any discomfort at bay. The occasional clouds were not a nuisance or obstruction; they added to the texture of the brilliant azure blue sky.
Dry leaves swooshed and crunched beneath our feet. Those they had left behind on the trees above swayed gently in the autumn breeze, their hues reflected the palate of the season: shades of green that melted into yellows and gold and oranges and, more rarely, reds. Acorns littered the path, and every once in a while, another broke away from the oak branch above—it’s downward journey pelting leaves, caroming off a branch or two, before landing with a soft thud a few feet away.
After a week of being mostly seated at my desk, the 450’ ascent of the High Point Trail in Mississippi Palisades State Park invigorated legs and lungs—being a bit winded felt strangely pleasant. After a mile and a half, we arrived at a small shelter on a ridge high above US Rt. 84 and the Mississippi River. The west-facing outlook affords a panoramic view from north to south and into Iowa beyond the river. One can almost imagine Moses standing atop Mt. Pisgah, taking in the Promised Land, absorbing the delights awaiting Israel beyond the Jordan River.
Along such a walk on such a day, conversation with my better half happens, but doesn’t dominate. There’s a calm serenity strolling along, breathing the fresh air, taking in the surroundings, losing ourselves in our own thoughts—or simply delighting.
Earlier, we sat outside on a restaurant patio enjoying a light snack. The warm October early afternoon roused myriads of ladybugs(?) from slumber, and they were everywhere. Normally, the abundance of such pests would send annoyed patrons indoors. But there we sat, waving away those that buzzed too close to face or food, brushing out the few looking to nest in our hair. Sure, they were a bit of an aggravation—but only a bit. We were having too nice a time to let some harmless, pesky ladybugs ruin it or drive us indoors.
The warm October early afternoon roused myriads of ladybugs(?) from slumber, and they were everywhere.
With a short four-mile hike completed, the afternoon waned, supper beckoned. We stopped at a small restaurant in downtown Savanna, entered, and inquired about a table.
“Inside or out?” the host asked.
Outside, of course! The small outdoor deck in the rear of the restaurant again faced west. The slowly sinking sun offered just enough warmth. The view, however, couldn’t be described as spectacular.
A parking lot created a hundred-yard separation between our seats and the train tracks that ran along the river. Two different freight trains rumbled by during our brief stay, and surprisingly we were more intrigued than annoyed. With all the chatter in the news lately about supply chain problems (which are very real) and the scores of cargo ships laden with shipping containers full of goods sitting offshore, it was a bit surreal to see these very long trains go by pulling containers to some unknown destination.
Despite the “industrial” setting close by, the scenery beyond the tracks offered a more pleasant view. Old Man River flowed south toward the Gulf of Mexico, reflections of the sinking sun glistening off the ripples. As the sun headed horizon-ward, the sky gradually took on the hues of autumn—yellow to gold to orange to red. By the time our bill arrived, the red-orange orb sank beneath the Iowa horizon. The little bit of warmth disappeared with it, and autumn’s chill penetrated the light layers of hiking clothes.
It was time to head home.
And heading east out of Savanna with the ebbing orange sky behind us and encroaching darkness before us, a little melancholy began to wave over me.
A perfect day was drawing to a close.
Earlier on our hike, the day’s relative perfection hit me. “There are some days, like this, that you wish would never end.”
Wonderful companionship. Pleasant conversation. Ideal weather. Delicious food. Beauty all around. Comfortable warmth.
A day you want to embrace and not let go.
But alas, it pulls away and leaves you behind simply to remember—and hope another like it will come along someday.
Who of us hasn’t had days like that? Who doesn’t want more of them?
The melancholy when they fade away and the longing for their return, I believe, is God-given.
He describes for us just such a day that is coming—a perfect day that will not end! Take a moment and read Revelation 22:1-5.
A day where nothing that grieves will enter—no pests, no pain, no piercing train whistles. No death will be experienced in that eternal day—not even the death of a day!
A day of abundant light where darkness is permanently banished.
A day of ongoing, intimate, delightful companionship with others who are there, and especially with the Triune God.
A day of abundance—all needed for the soul’s nourishment is within reach and freely offered.
And until that eternal day arrives for all who belong to Jesus (see Revelation 21:27), we long for it. The writer of Ecclesiastes put it this way:
“He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”
(Ecclesiastes 3:11, ESV)
He has put eternity into our hearts. The longing for the endless, beautiful, perfect day. Don’t you from time to time find yourself pining for it—even as I did, driving home from Savana at the end of an otherwise perfect day?
The gospel songwriter Josiah K. Atwood longed for it. Over 130 years ago, he put pen to paper to express his soul’s yearning in the song, “The Unclouded Day.”
- Oh, they tell me of a home far beyond the skies,
Oh, they tell me of a home far away;
Oh, they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise,
Oh, they tell me of an unclouded day.
Refrain:
Oh, the land of cloudless day,
Oh, the land of an unclouded sky,
Oh, they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise,
Oh, they tell me of an unclouded day.
- Oh, they tell me of a home where my friends have gone,
Oh, they tell me of that land far away,
Where the tree of life in eternal bloom
Sheds its fragrance through the unclouded day. - Oh, they tell me of a King in His beauty there,
And they tell me that mine eyes shall behold
Where He sits on the throne that is whiter than snow,
In the city that is made of gold. - Oh, they tell me that He smiles on His children there,
And His smile drives their sorrows all away;
And they tell me that no tears ever come again
In that lovely land of unclouded day.
Sounds like a perfect day!
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