A BIT TOO MUCH OF REALITY?

We've been blessed with several glorious Spring-like days here, and I became acutely aware of how often I take such things for granted. On  days like these the view directly across from our flat is quite breath taking.
St Paul's Island lies sleepily in the distance, the occasional sailing boat glides by silently, otherwise  simply a vast expanse of blue;-----blue sky and a sapphire sea ,peaceful and beautiful.
            Why is it that , at times like  these I often let such beauty slip by almost unnoticed and unappreciated? This thought brings to mind words from . T. S. Eliot's  hauntingly lovely poem Burnt Norton.-----
                                        " Go, go, go said the bird: human kind
                                          Cannot bear very much reality."
            Is it that when I give myself the time to drink in this sea scene it is just a bit too much? There is this vast expanse of BLUE;  mystery, the unknown.  It draws me into it with a mesmerising  force whose
power is the stuff that  inspires visions and dreams. Here in this vast emptiness, this never ending space is  perhaps a glimpse of the infinite,- a glimpse of Eternity. Maybe a sadness comes from a feeling of something lost, something one is longing  and hoping for. All I know is that this BEAUTY is real, is wonderful, and to take time to let it sink in is a moment that I need to accept with recognition and deep gratitude.

                       '  To see a world in a grain of sand,and heaven in a wild flower.
                         hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, and Eternity in an hour.'
                                                               William Blake.

'Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future; rather it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present, you will never find it.'
                                                              Thomas Merton.

'When it comes to Life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.'
                                                              G. K. Chesterton.