A host of starlings in the ash this campervan morning their conversation fills the air. They have been missed. Some of them flit between the ash and the oak and then return. The air is thick with a chill this morning. The ground solid, white frost encrusted grass crackles once again under foot. A few robins bob here and there and the occasional oak leaf floats to the floor, to join a myriad of companions coating the floor where I sit. A blackbird flits its way to the floor and begins to rummage through the leaves on its breakfast scavenge. A pair of blue tits on the hunt hang from branch, eave and gutter on their search for food. The sky a drab mixtures of greys heads eastwards. Cold nipping at fingers, face and nose, hats and thermals are the order of the morning. I love these really cold mornings, the sharpness of the air on your lungs, the spirals of breath on the air. I love being out in it, but I also love the hunkering down, warmth of a fire, drawn curtains, music and a good book. The two opposites once again, not so much of the nomad about that either, though I do have a desire to spend a winter in the very north of Europe, Norway, Sweden or somewhere like Svalbard. It’s self care Sunday, so a later morning light start, with an air of gentleness as well as the cold. In the background, I continue to walk alongside Chatwin as he travels the arid interior of Australia in his ongoing search. It’s funny how my various reads colour my thoughts each morning, be they, at the moment, Chatwin, Solnit, O’Donohue, Rogers, Yalom or May. An escape from the modern tedium or the exploration or search for something else. My current muse Chatwin on walking, travel and ancestry, Solnit on life, growth, the planet, O’Donohue on love and the soul, Yalom and Rogers on the self and exploration, De Botton on philosophy and list goes on and on. The theme in all of them appears to be exploration in whatever form it comes in. The physical of places, the emotions of the past and the here and now, the exploration of ancestors and history, the understanding of the self. The desire to keep going, keep moving forward, search for understanding, not to keep still, mentally or physically. It’s a bit of ramble at the moment or has been for the last few days. I tend to find that when a new writer crosses my path, it questions things and a whole revisit seems to set itself in train. Any how today is self care Sunday, so make sure you do something for you today. Lovely days people.
“ Anything was better than to be loved for one's things.” Bruce Chatwin.
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