Musings through the window

As I gazed out of the cozy, oval shaped, oak rimmed window the sunlight greeted me like the embrace of a dear old friend. I noticed it gather in a spherical beam, dancing like a whimsical troupe of Russian ballet dancers. My eyes lingered on this exquisite display and mused upon how perfectly it timed with the 60’s tune that gently sang from the radio in the kitchen. I smiled a small, bashful smile as it nostalgically threw me back into fond memories of my father and I dancing together back when I was small enough to dance on his feet. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to savour the warm feelings of joy and gratitude this memory brought me.

I opened my eyes and looked out upon the garden; floods of gold from the sun swarmed my vision along with shades of emerald, pine and crocodile green from the endless variety of plants and trees to which I shamefully noted I didn’t know the names of many of them. Their leaves began to twirl vigorously; clapping and cheering in the blistering wind as if they were my adoring audience and had been waiting hours to see me. I smirked at the thought of this and started to question if this isolation period was getting to me but their response was to roar with even more vigour as the strong wind blew even more intensely. There was no doubt about it, nature was truly alive today and it was in fact i that was the lucky spectator of this illustrious show.

A proud red breasted robin took centre stage on a rusty old shovel I’d left sticking out of the soil in the thriving lavender bush. The robin hopped playfully from side to side, turning as if to ensure showing off his best angles before commencing with his etherial melody. It caught the attention of a passing squirrel who stopped in his tracks to stare at the spectacular performance before carrying on his important business of nut collecting. Right on cue a white butterfly with flecks of magenta fluttered around the robin in graceful swoops and then up, down and around the long wooden frame of the rusty shovel. Another butterfly of the same variety hurriedly joined the delightful jig, possibly a little late as it had been rather preoccupied with a sweet smelling rose that had bloomed just this morning. The second butterfly fell straight into position and the pair waltzed in time to what seemed like the chorus of the alluring piece. This wonderful spectacle carried on for a few minutes and then in perfect synchrony, the singer and his dancers got to the end of their performance and vanished.

I felt honoured to have been graced with such a magical morning and peered up at the bright blue sky. A few cotton like clouds were floating in the distance; one looked like a delightful hovering hummingbird, another like a playful baby elephant skipping not far behind. Finding imagery in clouds had become one of my dreamy little pleasures in life since time had been forced to stand still. I had started compiling a list in my teal and gold notebook (which was now looking a little worn) of simple pleasures life had to offer which I thought didn’t get the acclimation they deserved. It was an indubitably pleasurable task I had started taking note of during the start of this isolation period that I wouldn’t have normally had the time to muse over but I’d rather enjoyed taking life at this simple and rather wholesome pace. Thoughts of leaving my high paced life and everyday hustle and bustle that London brought to escape to a quaint little cottage in the British countryside had seemed incredibly appealing. Spending my day painting, writing and tending to marrows and pea shoots called to my soul and the idea of going back to my life as an air stewardess seemed incredibly dreary. People had a tendency to lose all inhibitions on planes and common decency is unfortunately in a lot of cases left on the ground. The amount of fights in the middle of the night about reclined seats, passengers not getting the chicken meal choice and claiming it was a complete travesty which was of course directly my fault or the leering intoxicated men who came out with some of their best lines while an effluvium whiff of whisky was sent straight to my nostrils seemed like a distant memory I was happy to exchange for the redolence of rose bushes and freshly baked almond Financiers that where due to come out of the oven shortly.

Who knows what the future will hold, hopefully a newly found appreciation for real connection, respect for the earth including all it’s inhabitants and an infinite care for others wellbeing. That is my intention which I send out with love, hope and grace.