One Autumn Morning in the Woods

A Tiny Walk

a tiny walk
the length of a small field and back
just five minutes
Joss and I

we found a long, slim feather
and a short one
the second daggered into the ground

five drops of water in a blade of grass
like peas in a pod
reflecting the latticed branches above

scraps of fluffy white down
keeping company with moss
while the blackbird lurked beneath the elder

wet sycamore leaves appliquéd to my wellies
shifting patterns of olive and chartreuse
black blight holes

a ball sitting on the leaf-strewn ground
pink and yellow
and seriously squashed
with ludicrously long eyelashes drawn upon it
provocative and smiling

in those five minutes
the temperature fell
so did snow
dainty flecks on Joss’ fur

Your Daily Quest

If chores seem like chores and you struggle to love your to-do list, then you’re going to love what clever Catherine Redfern has come up with.  YOUR DAILY QUEST = a whole wadge of pretty sheets that turn ticking off to-dos into a game….and cheer you on at the same time.  How devious is that?!

Despite her protestations to the contrary, Cath – I happen to know - is a super productive person (actually, I’m in awe).  Which means she knows a bit about motivating herself to get things done.  If you need a kick in that direction (hand in the air here) then a kick that comes in rainbow colours and dressed in flowers has to be the nicest possible sort.

Once downloaded, Cath’s artwork can be printed off over and over again for an endless source of cheerful lists.  Find out more here.

Happily Engaged

High on the moor a rogue balloon came bouncing towards Joss and I.  Having travelled who knows how far.  It nested briefly in the heather then skittered a few yards further.  Over and over again.  Trailing a purple ribbon and memories I could only guess at.

We followed it.  Snapping pictures as it twisted and skipped.  Accepting its invitation.  It was so darn happy.  The perfect carrier for the message it bore.  The perfect find on a glorious autumn day. 

We gambolled through the heather.  The balloon and Joss and I.  Until I lifted the purple streamer high and let the balloon fly.  The sunshine spinning from its many hearts.

It Rains On Thursdays

It rains on Thursdays.

This is an incontrovertible, meteorological fact.  And I can prove it.

Once a month I go walking with a gang of friends.  Nothing arduous.  Just a few gentle miles, dogs in tow.  Our walks always fall on a Thursday, and it used to be that they were subject to the usual weather lottery that is life in Britain.  But, over the last year or so, things have changed.  No longer are Thursdays a mix of sunshine and showers, balmy breezes and howling gales.  On Thursdays, the weather is unremittingly foul. 

We’re a pretty hardy bunch.  And, like good girl scouts, we‘re always prepared.  Waterproof trousers, woolly everything, umbrellas.  But even we, forearmed and optimistic, have had to throw the towel in sometimes.  ‘Cause the towel would have been sopping wet.

So, if you’re planning a walk in the Pennines, avoid Thursdays.  Of course, it rains most other days, too.  But it ALWAYS rains on Thursdays.