In the ordinariness of everyday there comes to us an ephemeral moment which is particularly our own; a perfect moment, an inexplicable lifting of the heart - a gift dropped from nowhere to charm and delight. I well remember one such moment which came to me so unexpectedly and unsought.

It had been a tiring day and I was sitting at my window in the cool of the summer's evening, idly watching the clothes blowing gently on the line and dimly conscious of the Beethoven symphony on the radio. Dusk was approaching and already the eastern sky had darkened. I watched the big, black storm clouds taking up their positions, ready for an assault. The air was pregnant with the gathering storm. I had no view of the west but I knew that the sun, slipping over the hills, was a flame of beauty because the pastel reflections streaked the storm clouds.

I sat on, my body so light and relaxed that I felt disembodied. All the half formed hopes and desires; all the unfulfilled longings were stilled as I opened myself to the peace of the moment. Could I have chosen my end I should have gone then. A light breeze puffed up suddenly, rustling the privet and blowing the washing: I could almost feel the softness of it curling round my face and lifting my hair, caressing me as a lover's fingers.

I still sat on, sensing the expectancy of nature but taking no part in it - emptied. The fresh, clean tang of the breeze came through the window and lovingly I embraced the moment and all other moments which had been like it - childhood, teenage, present past and future moments, for such are out of time.

Suddenly, as at a word of command, the gentle, exploring breeze gave way to great gusts which whipped the clothes into a maddening frenzy, and the dusk closed in so swiftly that lights appeared in the windows across the way. All that could be seen, outlined against the sky, was house, tree and the white washing blowing. My moment had almost gone for, with a tremendous effort, the wind forced its way onward, banging doors and windows, lifting mats and curtains, and as the first large splashes of rain fell I raced to rescue my linen. The moment had passed.

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