Jumble Tuesdays.

Modernity feels right on top this campervan morning. The overwhelming rumble of distant roads, the warning horn of a passing train, the sound debris of overhead planes really dominating the air. The usual sounds of nature feel quite distant. It could be the atmospherics, it’s still and not even a flurry of a breeze. A November chill hangs in the air. The longer you sit the more prevalent it is. Three crows make their way slowly across the sky calling as they go. A lone magpie in the ash, leaps from branch to branch searching for breakfast. The oak leaves turning yellow, a few already falling to the floor. The smaller birds appear to be absent, it could just be the bigger ones scaring them off, as the crows appear to be growing in noise and number around me. As the crows fade over time, the birdsong changes and shifts to smaller ones, the air a little lighter and a little fuller with song. Not a huge amount to report, Tuesday and the week is well and truly on the way. A mixture of thoughts jumbled amongst the mixture of sounds this morning. Jumble appears to be an appropriate word for it all. And that’s ok. I am delighted to sit and be with the jumble and pull the threads apart in time. The early morning sounds were a bit of a jumble, but once pulled apart, identified and put in place the scene unfolds. Likewise elsewhere, thoughts and feelings to be identified, understood and allowed to unfold filling the day with experiences and fun. So it feels a wee bit like a jumble Tuesday. Lovely days people.

“Those creatures who find everyday experience a muddled jumble of events with no predictability, no regularity, are in grave peril. The Universe belongs to those who, at least to some degree, have figured it out.” Carl Sagan.