Back to reality...

We've been back several weeks now. The journey was uneventful despite the predicted bank holiday weekend traffic nightmare. We arrived home to a mountain of post including a Blue Peter badge for Eron! Washing, unpacking and sorting commenced. It didn't take long for everyone to slip into the usual ways of being, most of which involved screens. Gone were the golden breakfasts around the fire, the fun packed days and lazy evening meals. It was easy to feel more than a little glum as we all headed back to work and then school.

There was so much to miss about our two weeks under canvas but one thing that stands out is the feeling of being close to the wild, close to the weather and close to natures, sights, smells and rhythms. I find this to be invigorating for my soul and soothing for my spirit. The challenge, now that I'm back in the hamster wheel, is to find easy but meaningful ways to find a little of that closeness. One quick win is my means of commuting - by motorcycle. I've always thought that my motorbike is not just great fun but keeps me connected to the weather and the seasons. Another way is to enjoy a little of the wildness around the little town in which I live.

Last night and after a long stressful day, I decided to go for a walk in the evening. I knew it would get dark so took a torch. I walked the 2 and a bit miles to Tillington, walking into the hand painted sunset and popped in on Mum & Dad. I enjoyed a beer and installed a memory card in Dad's phone so that he could take thousands of photos of Scotland, their intended destination the following day. By the time all this was done it was dark. I was offered a lift back but declined. I thought about walking along the road side back to Petworth but considered this a cop-out. Instead I decided to walk across the fields and tracks in the darkness.

And what a fantastic walk it was. Setting off through the grave yard my neck hairs on end, I had to consciously decide to ignore the many films and TV programmes that told me the dark was not to be trusted. The more I walked though, the more the darkness felt comforting and blanket-like. I stopped several times either to tilt my head back and enjoy the stars or stand silently in the shadows. It felt like an unusual things to do, risky almost but mostly it felt good to be close again. 

Our Mantel piece full of memory pieces