The Revelation in Regent’s Park,
11th August 1999

Memoir | J.R. Bournville

Crowds gather amid birdsong and pollen, jaws agape, eyes skyward. The eleventh minute, eleventh hour, eleventh day, my eleventh birthday; the convergence of sun, moon, and me. Breaths are held as darkness cloaks this unnaturally silent world.

As the moon moves oceans, it stirs something inside me, awakening, thrilling, humbling. Doubt vanishes; I’m meant to be me, here, now, witnessing confirmation that I belong in this glorious universe, that I’m important.

I look into the fire-rimmed blackness, smiling, more alive than ever.

The moon slides onward, the sun’s warmth returns. Renewed, I take my first breath.

“Happy birthday,” says Mum.