Blue Skies

As I sought to describe mindfulness last week, I talked of the small offerings given by Mother Earth that prick my consciousness and remind me to look for the beauty, even when it's hard to see.  I treasure these moments and take them as signs of better days ahead, holding faith in the cyclical nature of the Universe.  They give me something to cling to in the darker days and have provided many a focal point for my photographic exploits.  Occasionally however, along comes a day so bountiful that it feels like the sky has burst open and you can see all the way to the sun.  

There are two windows in our bedroom, one on either side of a corner that points East.  Despite my best endeavours to make snug fitting blinds, the sunrise on a blue sky morning has found a way to sneak round the sides, both illuminating and casting shadows around the room.  All the more special for their rarity, I cherish these mornings, and thus it was as we awoke on Sunday.  No time however to linger, we were to be up and out and on our way to Stratford Upon Avon to see Hamish for the first time in 19 weeks, to reunite him with his old dog and introduce him to the new.  

Little did we know when we hired a secure dog walking field for the occasion that it would provide the most picturesque of backdrops for the adventure to unfold.  The peace and tranquillity of the meadow with it's meandering river speckled with lilypads juxtaposed against the rapid beating of my heart as, off the lead for the first time, Nash ran and ran and ran some more, Hamish ran in pursuit of Nash, Al went after Hamish and I brought up the rear (wondering if now was a really bad time to try to capture this on film), whilst Dougal took it in his stride oblivious to the momentary tension in the air.  Laden with high value treats, we were able to convince Nash to return to his life of captivity, the anguish soon forgotten as we settled back into the soothing rhythm of the slow flowing waters.  

I have no doubt that the heightened emotions of the morning led to the overwhelming feelings of contentment that washed over me in the afternoon.  Dogs safely tethered, field of cows negotiated without incident, we sat high above the town, the wisps of cloud suspended in the air, whilst I took a few moments to contemplate my life and all I have to be grateful for: my boys, my sister, my family, my friends, my marriage (every day and especially today - it was our wedding anniversary).

Awaking on Monday and upon discovering that the clouds have returned in earnest, I was struck by a thought - the sky is still blue.  Beneath layer upon layer of cloud the sun shines as brightly and the sky is still blue.  This concept is so simple it even has me checking with Al that I'm correct, but I've been in an aeroplane, I've seen this for myself, I just don't think about it that often.

I'm fortunate.  Like the blue skies and the shining sun, my family and friends are constants that remain even when I can't see them, bringing warmth and energy and life to my life, which multiplies many times over when my sister comes to visit, I get to visit my son, or the easing of lockdown allows evenings to be spent socialising with some really special friends.

I haven't seen my older son for even longer, it was hard being apart from him on his birthday, but nice for him to spend the day doing his own thing in the very capable birthday organising hands of his girlfriend T.  Socially distancing, happy and independent making blue sky memories of their own.