Coffee in the Cathedral
During our weekly trips to St. Andrews, once we have completed our errands, we order our take out coffees and head for the ruined sanctuary of St. Andrews cathedral.
Against a south facing wall there are a row of benches seldom used, where we can sit looking out across the remnants of the cathedral that still affords an atmosphere of ravaged grandeur and tranquility.
A refuge from all the unrelenting noise of these trying times, providing the perfect antidote.
With the faint warmth of winter sun on our faces, we gradually absorb the ambience and the sense of history reflected around us.
The events that took place here hundreds of years ago that these magnificent ruins testify to, now stand as though in silent tribute. Slowly sipping our coffee, we start to feel enveloped by the solemnity of history and think that we now share that same fear of pestilence, uncertainty and upheaval of those that went before us. So in some sense history does repeat itself, despite the advances of civilization.
My weltschmerz begins for the first time to lift slightly and seems almost irrelevant compared to the endeavours that took place here centuries past. I start to realise that I am just passing through, one among pressing billions and that my existence is of little consequence in the overall scheme of things.
We leave with an invigorated outlook, a little more buoyant than before.