Walking through our park on an October afternoon.
Not just the park any more but *ours*. Mine and this bub’s. Newborn’s first outing around the frozen lake, picnics with friends, daisy chains and eating grass, snoozy feeds under shady spots, squeals of delight on the swings. Somewhere in the future, there are steps to be taken, ducks to be fed, ices creams to eat and a scooter to ride.
But here and now we’re walking through our park on an October afternoon. The leaves on the trees may be dying but they seem oh so full of life as they gently fall. The sun is warm, unseasonably so. Low in the sky, it casts a magical glow whilst I collect autumn treasures. I pass them to baby to discover; crunchy leaves, pine cones and shiny conkers.
We stop on a bench under the dappled light. Play peekaboo through the gaps. Share an apple, big bites and little bites. Wave at the people walking by with their dogs. We spot squirrels and birds and hear the breeze in the treetops.
This time last year I sat in the autumn sun full of anticipation, with little kicks keeping me company in my rounded belly. All these echoes in time swirl around me like the leaves. All golden in our park on an October afternoon.
Dear January, for me you were a month of contrasts – busy yet slow, pretty darn damp but also “dry”, not particularly blue necessarily but undoubtably bleak. At times I’ve wanted to bury my head in the sand and ignore what’s going on in the world, but at others I’ve been unable to tear myself away from the news.
The new year brought new clients and exciting new work opportunities. Aware that so much newness all at once could threaten to overwhelm, I did my best to “arm myself”- meditating before starting work most mornings, trying to managing my time well, leaning into the business and enjoying my full days. It’s a constant learning curve.
As much as your weekdays were busy, your weekends were quiet and slow; reserved for movies, lie-ins, mooching, friends and cooking of course. There was the therapeutic new year clear out, continuing the epic decluttering that began in 2016, each purge feels more and more freeing. This year even unwanted Christmas presents went straight into bags for charity, taking with them the usually inevitable feeling of guilt that comes months later when these items have had no use. Smug ex-hoarder here – sorry!
You then went oddly musical in the middle there January, as I greeted grey mornings with bursts of ‘Another Day of Sun’ and spent days singing along so loudly I’m sure I drove my neighbours La La!
January, your last day felt much like your first – minus the hangover – grey, damp, dreary. But underneath it there’s something more, daffodils in the shop, fresh growth in the garden, longer days , with a promise to soon bloom and bring brighter days.