Village Sunday

June 2nd, 2013…

I had to chuckle to myself as I dressed this morning, recalling the advice about underwear in the eventuality of being run over by a bus. The selection that was dug from the depths of the lingerie drawer has far more in common with army surplus than my usual confections in satin and lace. However, it is comfortable, capacious and puts no pressure on the bruises and stitches. Therefore it allows me to dress with some modicum of normality, at least on the surface.

I was on a mission.

By the simple expedient of sharing with Ani, I managed, quite neatly I thought, to run out of milk. I could have called in the cavalry, of course, but my son had been night fishing, and the village shop is only a few minutes away… and anyway, it is a beautiful day. If I walk straight there and back, even at my current restricted pace, it is only about twenty minutes. The path is via the village streets, there are people everywhere…a sensible little walk.

Picking the camera up on the way out of the door was, perhaps, not a sensible move. But there is plenty to photograph on the way… wildflowers, gardens…and especially if you don’t take the straight route to the shops…

Well, okay, I got sidetracked. Blame the kite. Or the sunshine, or the flowers…

I ask you, with all this beauty right on your doorstep, would you, could you resist after being cooped up for a week?

Then there was the damsel fly, just sitting there, catching the sunlight on its impossibly turquoise body. There were orange tipped butterflies, bees buzzing everywhere, wildflowers a riot of hot pinks and yellows…

So the return from the shop took a slightly longer route, through the allotments and footpaths , across the meadow, down through the little wood where the leaves are every shade of green and gold in the summer sun. Where hawthorns and horse chestnuts are top heavy with blossom and the ground is misted with a mass of white.

No, it may not have been sensible wandering through the quiet places alone at present. Being sensible isn’t always the best option. Sometimes the best thing to do is just follow your heart, and mine told me I needed to be out in the green land again, with the sun in my hair and earth at my feet. I think it was right.