I took myself for a stroll round the neighbourhood this morning, revelling in having the time to just think and ponder on things as I went. One of the joys of having stopped working is being able to have some free head space. You know, the room to actually think about all sorts of things unrelated to surviving.
I have to confess that sometimes head space is a rather Homer Simpson affair, where the brain is just bumbling, saying “think of something, think of something”, but at other times there is actual creative thought going on.
This morning I was pondering on Spring. I love the Spring-there can’t be many people who don’t-as the bringer of optimism and renewal. I eagerly wait for the signs that show me new life is beginning, old life is renewing. I dislike the winter intensely-and feel for those of you who endure many long dark months. I am afraid I would not do very well in a country with long winters, however lovely snow and ice can be. It’s the lack of light that bothers me.
Today was a lovely spring like day-warm and sunny, with such a ringing clarity to the air. I took a stroll around the neighbourhood, mulling this clarity of light, marvelling at the intensity it brought to colours and searching for those little signs.
Plants are truly wonderful emblems of renewal. In the hedgerows there was new blossom, delicate white petals on blackthorn and wild plums, tiny drumstick stamens contrasting with the clarity of the blooms.
Beside the brook, celandines and primroses bathed in the sunshine. Two weeks ago they were not here, but the energy of the sun brought them to this stage very quickly. The air felt charged with this energy.
Sometimes it is not knowing the science that matters, that the growth is a chemical response in the plant, but that it happens at all. What matters is having the eyes to see it and the time to reflect on the beauty of it. As the poet Thomas Hardy said, “to notice such things.”