Stories that make sense
By way of contrast with yesterday, today’s weather was everything that early January ought to be: cold, clear, and lit with gentle gold sunlight. I always struggle, when in recovery, with finding the balance between “keeping active” and “overdoing it”: today’s walk was probably about a kilometre, which was about right. More to the point, it put me in the company of the sun, and the bluetits, and the wagtails, and these trees.
This prompt has come up twice, but why not?
I’ve been fascinated by shades of grey today, my gaze drawn to the misty sky and the subtle gradation of silhouetted trees, and remembering what silver looks like before it’s polished, a dull white.
Last week the weather – if you can even call it that – was so depressingly grey that today I’ve been particularly grateful for two bright days in a row. This isn’t anywhere special; this path runs from the bypass to a car park, and I’ve cropped another car park out of the photo. But just look at it.
Another take on the combination of silver birch tree and golden light – real this time. It wasn’t like this yesterday, I’ll tell you that much.
We’ve had all sorts of weather today: rain, sunshine, and, above all, wind. It’s brought a lot of leaves down from the trees, and those that are left are sideways.
I think I need to make my posts shorter still. Short enough to type on my phone with one hand while feeding the baby with the other. Like this one.
Not a whole lot to see at the moment. But things are happening, quietly, in their own good time.
I took this photo just at sunset today, and the exact moment of solstice is coming up in three quarters of an hour or so. Here we go, around another corner.
Kathleen Jowitt 