I woke up this morning and went to look for the blackbirds busy building their nest in the evergreen bush at the bottom of the garden. The cat eyed me from its post on the roof of the garden shed. In my mind I worked out a plan to get the hosepipe down the side of the garden, so that when the garden is full of fledglings, I can turn on the garden tap from metres away to surprise the cat off the roof and back into its own garden. The cat watches me not knowing that I’m watching it back. I’ve got a battle plan and better than that, I’ve got time on my hands to work that plan out.
After breakfast I sat and thought about walking into town, it was 7.30am, I’ve never walked into anywhere at 7.30am. I decided that once a week, to gather supplies, I will walk into town at 7.30am. Spring is coming, I’ve never seen the world on a regular basis at 7.30am. Before all this my days outside began and ended between the hours of 10am and 8pm. I am curious to know what might happen if I am abroad in the early hours of the morning.
All the days of my life before this were carefully divided into hour long slots on ical, now those days are stretched out with empty spaces. Empty spaces! My knitting, taken up to calm an anxious mind, is filling a fraction of that time. My mind turns to all of the projects bubbling on the back burner. We will get that book written in this time and that course will be ready on time and I will read that book I have been carrying around in my bag for months on end.
And in my garden I will watch the plants grow and will nurture and nourish food for us to eat. We will sit like we used to and walk across fields and enjoy the pale, weak, English sun as it builds its strength. Someone said that sunlight is the best disinfectant. I feel gratitude for its warmth and healing.
I am going to miss some things. Most of all the laughter of the boy and his boundless energy and putting my pinny on for when he arrives.
But I won’t miss living life at a breakneck pace, speeding along so fast we could hardly breathe.
My world is resetting itself. Perhaps it was time.