You Are Here

I do love a “You are here” information board, like this one I spotted in Southwold, Suffolk, last week. Very useful for someone like me with a terrible sense of direction.

However, my obtuse mind responds with:

“Well, of course I’m here. Where else could I be if I’m reading this sign?”

But the reality is that we can easily find ourselves not here – i.e. here in person but somewhere else in our heads. Not actually being present to the present. To the moment we’re in.

Aldeburgh, Suffolk

We can find ourselves with a million thoughts racing round our brains. Or simply mooching around mentally in another place and time.

In my everyday life, with an energetic personality and a demanding job as a nurse with management responsibilities, some see me as speeding through life like the proverbial hare.

Actual (not proverbial!) hare

My wife Janine says I’m always busy – which is kind of true.

Brown hare (Lepus europaeus)

A client I used to support complained that I was “always going at 1000 miles an hour”, even when I was trying to slow down to his pace!

When I saw the info board in Southwold, Janine and I were blessed to have been staying in a small cabin on a remote edge of Aldeburgh, away from the hustle-bustle of holidaymakers and 9-5 workers.

Our cabin for two nights, at the edge of Aldeburgh

I spent the first part of each morning in quiet contemplation and prayer in the garden, overlooking a field inhabited by swallows and actual hares! In fact, in the couple of days we spent in this rural part of Suffolk, I saw more hares than I’d ever seen before in my life (having been able to count previous sightings on one hand).

When you see a hare, you know it’s a hare, not a rabbit – by its long, black-tipped ears and long legs

It was wonderful to see and photograph all manner of other wildlife too, in and around Aldeburgh.

Little Egret, coming down to land, next to river Alde

I’m proud to be able to say that I genuinely barely thought about work during our short break away. Times in Nature, walking and taking photos, helps me to practise mindfulness, to be present.

Garden Tiger moth

Or, as a long contemplative Christian tradition puts it, to “practise the presence of God.”

Moonrise, with passing plane

I think that’s one of many reasons I like to spend time outdoors. Hopefully the practice of Presence in Nature carries over into the times I spend with other people, whether with family, friends, or at work – despite the charge of “going at 1000 miles an hour”!

Sunset, Aldeburgh

And perhaps in time I can also learn to be more like the proverbial tortoise and less like the hare.

One last early-morning hare photo!

There’s a worship song from the ‘90s that starts with the words, “You are here and I behold your beauty.” The song’s writer, Brian Doerksen, recognises the pre-existing presence of God, that needs no hype, no Hail Marys, no charismania, to enter into. Simply stillness, to recognise the Presence that is already – always – there.

Resting swallows, just outside the cabin

It’s a beautiful song, which I enjoy at face value. But I also like to turn some songs around, so in this case, instead of the words being sung from us to God, they become an expression of welcome from God to us.

You are here”: in other words, God (or Presence / Yahweh / Love / Source / Father – whatever word you like to use[1]) being pleased at our presence. This, I believe, is the spiritual dynamic when we show up – in stillness, in silence, in mindful awareness[2].

The Scallop: sculpture on Aldeburgh beach, which captured my attention
(I’ve ‘doctored’ this photo more than I would normally, but I like the effect in this case)

“…and I behold your beauty”: I believe in the beauty of humanity. I believe humankind gets a bad rap. And I do understand why. Secularists might point to our selfish destruction of the planet; our genocides and greed. Some branches of Christianity speak of original sin and the total depravity of man. But personally, I believe that “God” (being Love) sees through the ugly outward layers to the total worth and dignity of every human being. That God says to us: “I behold your beauty.

Common Blues, mating

And perhaps, the more we can believe that about ourselves and each other, the more we might live up to our inherent worth and turn the tide of human and planetary destruction.

Clouded Yellow

Some might call me an optimist.

Please feel free to comment. I am here.


All photos mine, between 4th – 6th August 2025, in Suffolk.

As I always say: there’s no copyright – feel free to use my photos for any purpose, if useful to you, with my blessing!

[1] My preference is for the name Yahweh, the name for God revealed by God to Moses, and the earliest biblical self-revelation of God’s identity. ‘Yahweh’, meaning ‘I Am’, indicates eternal Presence, Self-Being; that God just is, and always will be. That God is Presence itself. Hence my belief that when we practise presence (stillness, mindfulness, being present), we encounter Presence (I Am), whatever our faith or non-faith.

[2] See above.

Sharing Space

In the ‘90s egrets were such a rare sight in the UK that the bird book I have from that time doesn’t include any egret species. But in 1996 Little Egrets started breeding here in the UK. Now in 2025, thankfully, they’re a common sight. Some wildlife is flourishing in England.

Less familiar is the Great White Egret, but this too is enjoying an increase, particularly in south-east England and East Anglia. A few pairs are now breeding in England.

Even rarer to the UK is the Cattle Egret, which I’ve seen in France but not here (yet).

Great White Egret (Ardea alba), Pevensey Levels

In June this year I stopped to photograph a Great White Egret I’d spotted while driving along Pevensey Levels, East Sussex.

This member of the heron family is still rare enough for me to get quite excited at the opportunity to take some photos when I see one.

As if that wasn’t enough, I then watched it return from where it had been fishing, to its young just behind the pool of water. Wow, I thought, Great White Egrets are breeding here in East Sussex and I get the chance to photograph this young family!

Except…when I got home and looked at the photos, the other birds turned out not to be young Great White Egrets but a Little Egret and a Grey Heron.

L-R: Grey Heron; Little Egret; Great White Egret

Three birds of different species – but same family – hanging out together, sharing fishing space, sharing territory….

…looking very relaxed and at ease together.

If only, as Jesus suggested to his Middle Eastern audience, we could look at the birds and learn from them.

Imagine, if we humans – different but the same – one family – could learn to share space and resources in a similar way, whether in Gaza, our city centres or anywhere else.