I walked on Tuesday... the first part of which, slightly faster than intended, as I was a tad late...
A grey sky, lowering over me, as I make the very short, ( slightly rapid), journey down the hill, to my GP surgery...a long wait, for no apparent reason, in the stiflingly warm, waiting room does little for my mood...my appointment goes well and I am relieved to escape into the cold, fresh air.
As I dawdle, yes, I definitely dawdled, back up the hill, my thoughts as ever, stray. For me, this February 2023, will remain in my mind, as the Snowdrop month.
I am not sure whether the fact that so much of January was spent building back from post-viral fatigue after Covid, or that the weather was so harsh, that simply getting outdoors was an issue... but the short runs and the walks , once I got out again seems to have been illustrated and punctuated, with that simple white flower!
Which begs the question, why am I putting this on the Looking Up post. !
Well, obviously it means that for me, I do feel, despite having had a cold for the first time in years, things are looking up. My walks are easier, my runs are increasing gently , and Nature is working her magic, Her powers of healing never cease to amaze me.
The simplest things, yet the most intricate of designs, the smallest sound, yet the greatest impact.
The snowdrop, six-petalled perfection... its three outer tepals, ( petals), guarding the three inner, shaded and silken... their milky beauty glowing with the faintest ice blue tint... A robin... his small voice , the notes rippling down, as icy, clear water over shining pebbles... drowning out the noises of life, as he stands, red-breast resplendent in the small tree.
I pause and listen... the railway crossing in the village is closed to traffic until May... daily traffic has become almost negligible.. the children are all gainfully employed at their educational labours... and the robin and I are lords of all we survey.
My feet, clad for a non- messy walk echo on the pavement.. the hedgerows now, as I listen harder, all a'twitter with the unmistakable chittering and chattering of the smaller birds... joining now, in chorus with the small red warbler! Under every hedge and in all the hidden places, the snowdrops. lifting the dark corners, and almost luminescent against the green depths.
As I walk, the sky seems to be growing lighter, I pause, and glancing upwards and across, over the top of the big house, Chimneys, I perceive a small break in the clouds... a cerulean-blue of a break. Enough to make a patch on a pair of sailors trousers, maybe? I carry on home.
It is odd , is it not that the shortest walk can yield such joy?
1000 feet high walk
