glimpses

  

The other morning we woke to heavy fog. I walked the dogs up the lane and around what we call 'the loop' as it's mostly off road and brings you through the landscape using an old trackway that runs between fields. It's where we pick sloes for gin and eventually it joins the road that leads back home. It was slightly spooky walking through the fogged air, past the woods where the trees were dripping and cobwebs hung like spun air. Kevin had seen a fox there the day before. He was sick or old and was slow to move off. Kevin had called the dogs to heel to allow him time to go. There was no sign of him as we walked to the top of the lane passing the small field bordering the woods where the sheep huddled together. Then on through the overgrown bit and down the track that lies dipped between fields. It can be muddy underfoot, although at this time of year it's dry earth and easy to walk on. We ended up on trackway again and there right in front of us a fox full of rude good health, sleek in his glossy coat. We had startled him as he crossed in front of us and in one glorious bound he flew into the undergrowth and disappeared. And somehow just seeing him like that, for the briefest of seconds, made me feel better.

October sun

Thank you Mother Nature for October days. It's cold, yes. We light the fire every night. It's time to pull on woollen jumpers and dig out the coats. But the morning light! That burning glow of cosmic energy. And then blue skied days with enough chill to make noses run and fingers tingle.

morning ritual

It's raining. And with the darkened mornings and it being the weekend we've had a slow start to the day. I have a mountain of laundry that would make even Ranulph Fiennes think twice. There's a sleeping teenager upstairs to be negotiated, gently does it. But first coffee, toast and marmalade, candles and the book that's tantalisingly close to being finished. Perhaps if I stay really, really quiet no-one will notice me...

slow morning

It's one of the last of the slow mornings. The boys are tucked away in their pyjamas, watching a dvd or playing with Lego or reading. The sun is shining. Take advantage of a quiet kitchen and make coffee the slow way, grind the beans, fill the little red pot with water, put it on the stove, hear the hiss of the gas and wait for the magic to happen. As soon as you hear the putt of coffee in the spout, whisk it off the heat. Toast pops, buttery fingers, cream in a favourite cup. And then out into the sun to sit and drink and eat and, if you're a dog, sunbathe.

this morning

Toast, coffee, book, scented flowers, clear table, children in school. Peace.