From Rev Sharon Grenham Toze, Anglican Vicar and Prison Chaplain

I always think you can smell Spring in the air around this time of year. I’m not sure what it is, and maybe it’s very unscientific, but there’s a definite change, particularly in the early evening and early morning.

It’s as if something we normally take for granted is quietly telling us to take notice, the world is turning.

Usually we only tend to notice the air we breathe when it’s in short supply or contaminated somehow. Sometimes an awful smell fills our nostrils as we’re driving along; or maybe, more seriously, after years of taking the steady in and out of our breathing for granted, one day we notice it’s a bit harder to catch our breath after a run up the stairs.

Of course, for some people in the world it's even more serious than that - with the fear in Japan that the air is filled with radioactivity. It's at times like these we sit up and take notice. Only then do we sit up and take notice.

I wonder what else we take for granted, not really noticing until a dramatic change grabs us by the throat? Perhaps it’s in a relationship, or in the way we see the world - the gradual erosion of the years, until we feel distant and disconnected. Many of us lead busy, stressful lives, and it’s easy to miss out on time for the subtleties. With so many things shouting for our attention, we can miss the quiet voice telling us that the world is turning – and then it’s too late.

And it’s not just the early warning of change that we can miss – there are all the small joys too. Just like the smell of Spring, with its promise of new life and warmth, the quiet tenderness of life is there as well, if we take time to notice. A touch from a friend, a child’s laugh, a beautiful view – so let’s take a deep breath this morning, the world is turning.