I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the movie Life of Pi?
I haven’t, but I’ve read the book and it’s one of those that, at first, I really didn’t get, but then I tried to take a step back and guess what it was all about and I think – THINK – that I may have extracted some kind of meaning from it.
Anyway, this column isn’t about the debates relating to faith and spirituality that arise from Yann Martel’s novel.
It’s about something that happened to me that very, very loosely reminded me of a scene from the book. And it doesn’t involve me sharing a raft with a tiger.
Now I don’t want to give anything away, but there’s a chapter early on in the book that vividly describes a boat being caught up in the middle of a storm and, last weekend, we went to visit some friends, stayed overnight, and ended up sleeping in the attic room.
It was about four o’clock in the morning when we were woken up by the heavens opening and heavy rain cascading on the two skylight windows.
It felt at times like the rain was going to batter the windows so hard that they would cave in.
The wind was fierce and, to be frank, it was a little scary.
I fell back to sleep again and woke up in the morning safe and sound.
That, my friends, has been my worst experience so far with the great rains of 2014, but later on Sunday when I read in the newspaper about the horrible situation in Chertsey where a young boy reportedly lost his life in the floods it really hit home how lucky I’ve been.
In the Midlands we seem to have escaped the worst of it and, aside from the Easter floods of several years ago, it doesn’t seem to hit us as hard as it does other places.
It backs up the argument that we should live life to the full.
You never know what’s round the corner.