Parking Lot Epiphany

Dreary, muted Sunday, wind-blown spaces snowy and empty: Boxing day, 8:40 a.m., at the local big box store: unexpectedly, outside the car window: dull white, grey gulls fly, disappear --- chameleon-like --- against intractable, dull white, grey clouds: hushed, natural intimations of the infinitely bigger picture; a sudden, bourgeoning sense of the thoroughgoing mystery, the "way out of the wilderness": intrigued the human heart beats again roused.