It was a glorious sunny day. I had just visited Hampton Court Palace Gardens near London, not far from where I live. As I returned to my car, parked some distance away, I walked along the bank of the river Thames, enjoying all the sights and sounds that the river brings. There were houseboats, yachts, rowing boats, trees and shrubs, a bridge, a distant weir, a lock, and, of course, other walkers sharing these joys.
In the bright sunshine I noticed how the houseboats, yachts, and foliage on the far bank were colorfully reflected in the calm slow-flowing river. The river appeared to me as a symbol of divine Science, expressing in those reflections an exact relationship of the spiritual creation to its Creator, God. However, as I was joyfully appreciating my surroundings, I suddenly became aware that the objects on the nearside bank where I walked were colorless dark shadows in the river. Why was this so?
The sun was shining above me on my left while the river was alongside on the right. I realized that in turning my head to view the river scene, I was looking away from the sun and—like the objects on this nearside bank—obstructing the sun’s rays. The obstruction was causing the lifeless, dark shadows. Yet the far bank of the river was reflecting all the divine hues, because there were no obstructions in the light from the sun to its object.
