I was travelling on the train on the way up to Aberdeen about 7.40 in the morning and passed through Burntisland station. I hadn't really noticed how dank and depressing it is before (was on the slow train that stops at all the stations before changing at Kirkcaldy) maybe it just suffers from being next to Aberdour station with all the flowers and riot of colour and prettiness; it's just paint peeling brick and it looks dark and gloomy. And there were all these commuters waiting on the Edinburgh train huddled in this damp space looking tired and burdened, maybe anticipating another day at work.
The train slowly drew out of the station and beyond the end of the station overhang the brick enclosure stops replaced by a small wall and behind this an open vista that looks up and out across the expanse of the Firth of Forth, across to the skyline of Edinburgh and the Pentland Hills beyond. It was a beautiful morning, the sky was clear, the estuary sparkling, the scene stunning and, of the whole crowd of commuters standing on the platform that morning even beyond the station brickwall, one person was standing with their back to the track and gazing out across the amazing view. It was the kind of scene that lifts the heart and makes us thankful for all that we notice about us.
In all the haste and the pressures of life and consumption, sometimes I feel out of place, as if there is something that I see that others don't or choose not to. I'm odd - the one person in the crowd looking the other way, lifting my eyes to the hills, feeling the grace of God and being grateful.
