Readers who subscribe to my other blog will know that in early October I broke my upper arm. It's been a long two months and I've been somewhat reclusive since then, venturing out for little local walks when I have had the energy - and not at all in the recent sub-zero temperatures we have not-been-enjoying in the normally temperate UK. But things do, eventually return to normal and yesterday saw a thawing, to our relief, although we have been comparatively lucky, sheltered beneath high ground.
My walk yesterday was the first for weeks and it was simply the same route I've been treading for eight years. It is hard to see it with a fresh eye, especially when one is feeling dull and tired. Winter is, by definition, a fairly lifeless season but the winter greens are managing to push through. Over to my left, as I negotiate icy mud, our village nestles almost camouflaged in the landscape like a brown sleeping mouse in a bundle of dead leaves.
The sheep seem to be weathering the cold, as are the many flocks of crows and jackdaws which punctuate my walk with constant cackles and caws.
But just as it seems as if nothing can break through my ennui, I notice the vivid tans and browns of the landscape, glowing in the warm sun which is melting the last of the snow.
And the way a cloud formation can look exactly like a giant bird of prey in hunched, hunting position, tail down and wings spread.
Wow - that cloud is amazing! I imagine it felt good to be getting more back into your usual activities, too.
ReplyDeletePG, glad that the sun has thawed your beautiful Costwolds landscape, and you've been well enough for this walk. And so very thankful that you've taken us along with you!
ReplyDeleteI do enjoy my walks in the cityscape, but really love seeing the openness you show, and the beautiful descriptions you write.
Best wishes! xo
So glad that you are once again sharing the landscape with us!
ReplyDeleteThank you for such a beautiful walk. As I type this, it is darker than H. here.
ReplyDeleteI love your walks and ramblings through the gorgeous countryside.
I may be one of the few who loves, and I mean loves, the shape, intentions and bareness of trees in the winter. There is something so beautiful to me in the skeletal strength and honesty of a bare tree. When you get down to it, the nakedness of our being is what makes us so special. I think the same of trees. They are just more brave and less embarrassed by by their pure beauty.
Oh, my..this does not mean that I will parade around in my own wrinkled nakedness! That would cause many a de-leafing. Sheesh! Well truly, one gets it..it is not literal nakedness in terms of us bipeds. I think I need to shut up and finish with another Thank You. xoxo
I thought you'd been quiet on Twitter, but figured that I'ver just been logging on at the wrong times. I'm so sorry about your arm. It's nice to walk the Cotswolds again with you.
ReplyDeleteWelcome back to the outer world we all love so well. You do have to look harder to find the beauty in those winterscapes, but it's there for those who have the eyes to see. We've all missed your ramblings, but probably not nearly as much as you have. I'm so happy to have you up and about and back on the prowl again. May you find many more birds in your sky and warmish sunny days.
ReplyDeleteIt's cold and dreary here in Indiana, USA, with about 6" of snow piling up in drifts all around us. But the seed catalogs are coming in the mail, and gardening days ahead to begin to dream on.
" a brown sleeping mouse in a bundle of dead leaves", THAT is good! I love your village.
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