New season, new space

It would be safe to say that we are well and truly in to Autumn.

There is a distinctly non summer-esque chill in the air, accompanied by tons of the wet stuff and a drawing in of our evenings.

No matter how many years I have experienced this, I always hear myself proclaiming in a somewhat surprised tone, ‘Oh, it’s getting dark already’, as if somehow this is a new phenomena.

Anyway, as I reflected on the change of season from my beloved summer in to my not so beloved autumn, I began to look to the parts of this season that I do like.  Because, I realise that whilst I have favourite and least favourite seasons, there is usually something that I relish about each.

For this particular season, I have rediscovered the art of making vegetable filled soups.  I serve these with homemade soda bread or cheese scones fresh from the oven.  Massive yum!

I have also started appreciating relaxing in hot, candle lit, bubble baths again.

With four friends having October birthdays, this means food filled celebrations.

Plus there is the return of the hat. I love a good hat.

And, as I took a brisk walk early on a recent Sunday evening, I was reminded afresh of how invigorating an autumn evening walk can be!  It’s all too easy to stop making the effort to get out for walks once the first chill of Autumn descends.

But, during that dusk walk I caught the sun setting over the hills against a silhouette of tree branches.  This reminded me once more of how stunning nature is in every season.

As I reflected, I could not help but make the comparison with when we are not in our first choice of season on a personal level.  As in, we may stop noticing what it does have to offer, if we’re not willing to look beyond what it doesn’t. 

The reality is that there are highs and lows, good and bad in every season of nature or soul. 

Like the rest of life, nothing is black and white. 

Whilst the trees are stripped of their greenery, certain bushes abound in beautifully coloured berries.

I also see the late blooming clematis, the random poppy and the last few tomatoes.

Similarly, as I look within, I see some things are ending and others beginning.

For it is indeed a new season.

And, I sense a new space emerging. 

It would seem that sufficient processing of internal emotions has cleared the way for a new burst of creativity to come forth.

A new space can be such an exciting thing. 

Afterall, if we want to create something new, we must first make a space to do so. 

We must also resist the temptation to immediately fill the new space merely for the sake of it.  A hasty filling could block the new thing that is not yet known but that is attempting to come through. 

Thus an ability to sit in the new space alongside any uncertainty is paramount.

Sometimes, the idea of space can cause folk a great deal of anxiety.  

As in, if I slow down or even stop and be in my own space, will all the emotions I have been attempting to outrun, catch up with me?  To which the answer is yes!  But with sufficient understanding and support, this can offer a healing connection and release, thus freeing up the energy and space for new things.

Or, the fear is what on earth to do with an empty space especially if there hasn’t been one for way too long.  Almost as if folk fear that the new space will swallow them whole without them being able to find their way out.

But as we look to nature we see through repetition that we do not need to spend the autumn or winter months fretting over the nakedness of the trees as if unsure whether the new leaves of Spring will ever come.

We trust in the seasons of nature.

So too must we trust in our own seasons.

The Seaside Soul Massage

As I had almost two clear, work free days this week, I decided to take another trip to the coast.

Leaving straight from work on Monday evening, I arrived at my B & B in time for a cup of tea on the balcony. Here I savoured the feel of the cool evening air on my skin and the sound of the waves in the distance.

My soul began to breathe easy again.

Tuesday dawned cloudy and rough looking. Perfect full cooked breakfast weather. Such an utter indulgence to have your breakfast served to you. Lush-tastik.

Following a post breakfast period of horizontality I coaxed myself out in to the day. After a leisurely walk along the coast, I took up residence in a sea facing pub to savour a hot pot of tea whilst devouring the newspaper. The arrival of the lunch time crowd signalled time for my departure.

The wind was pretty biting so when I discovered a sheltered area from which to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the sound of the sea and the feel of the sand, I engaged in one of my favourite pastimes; watching the clouds do their thing.

Unfortunately the pot of tea I’d just had dictated that I moved on before I wanted to. But a short distance on I was delighted to discover a lifeless looking sea front cafe was actually open. And there was no one in it other than the owner. Perfect! More tea was consumed along with the luxury of unhurried reading.

As I was now nearing 4pm my stomach was making demands for more fuel.

A short walk in to town allowed me to source some fresh cod and chips which I devoured in a beautiful flower filled park. The wind was rather reducing my pleasure of feasting though.

So, when I caught myself buying a bag of 3 hot donuts I decided to return to the shelter of my balcony back at the accommodation. From here I savoured the donuts (yes all three) washed down with yes, more tea.  Dee-licious.

I decided to take full advantage of the increase in daylight by taking another walk the other way up the coast. I was met with the most stunning of seaside sights. God never fails to leave me in awe of the beauty and wonder of His creation.

After this I returned to my balcony to sit and absorb the last of the evening sunshine.  Glorious.

When Wednesday morning’s alarm sounded what is becoming an increasingly irritating noise, I resisted the temptation to roll over for an extra hours slumber. Instead I dragged myself out for a pre-breakfast run. The training for the half marathon isn’t going to happen whilst I sit around inhaling chips and donuts.

My reward was the delight of discovering it was a beautiful, blue skied, sunshine shimmering off the sea kind of a morning. What a stunningly fantabulous scene to be met with.

Back at my B & B I had time for another breakfast and a spot of writing on the balcony before checking out.

As the sun was twinkling enticingly over everything I took another very windy walk along the coast.

After which I was relieved to stumble upon another seafront cafe where I could enjoy some respite from the wind and sip a warming mug of tea.

And then it really was time to return to the car for my homeward journey.

How I love time out to nourish my soul.

And I don’t have to wait long for a proper stretch of time off.

A room with no view …

Here I am again.

Answering the call of the coast. I’ve lasted almost two months but it was time to return to the sea. A trip to break up the post summer, pre Christmas stretch.

I’ve got in to the habit of returning to the same places throughout this year that I discovered throughout last year. I couldn’t quite muster the required energy to explore new territory before now.

But this time, I decided to go for it. Explore a new place.

Leaving at 6am on Sunday morning, I enjoyed a straight forward and quiet journey down. Apart from the worrying light on my dashboard that looked suspiciously like there was a problem with a tyre. Damn. Drove extra cautiously as a result, promising myself that I’d address it once there. Not ideal I know!

Anyway, I opted to check out another coastal resort en route to my destination. As I was greeted by a vast expanse of beach stretching on for miles, I took myself for what could only be described as a bracing walk!

Spotted some guys doing what I imagine may be called kite surfing. It looked exhilarating if totally freezing.

Happened upon a little beach front café with a comfy sofa facing the sea. Perfect for a top up of hot tea.

Walked back rather briskly in order to beat the time on the car park ticket. How I hate paying for parking! It wasn’t straight forward either. The sign next to the metre gave a number to call and a code to quote to arrange the parking fee. Yet when I called it, they didn’t recognise the code. Not even when I attempted it another two times. Aaargh! And then when I did arrive back at the car park, I couldn’t find my car! A few moments of panic later and I managed to locate it exactly where I left it, on the floor directly where I had been looking. Saved myself a potentially very embarrassing phone call to the local authority. Phew!

Arrived at my sea facing accommodation to the sight of a car parking space directly outside. Relieved.

Checked in to the Hotel and immediately checked out my room. Old fashioned, dark wood furniture, autumnally coloured window drapes and a surprisingly modern en suite. But alas, whilst the window was tall to match the high ceiling, it also had absolutely no view. All I could see was what looked and smelt like some equipment to do with the extractor for the kitchen, to the left and a wall to the right. If I looked right to the top, I could see a tiny expanse of sky. Disappointing. The bathroom window was even worse with the necessary non see through bathroom style windows.

For someone who loves to be outside, not being able to at least see the great outdoors was utterly dismal.

Not to be deterred, I left the light deprived nature of the room to investigate the nearby harbour and town.

Had a little browse around a charity shop where I treated myself to a pack of three rather attractive pairs of new socks. I’m sick of seeing the worn out unmatching offerings that are usually adorning my feet.

Further explorations led me to discover a wonderful little place to satisfy my craving for a roast chicken dinner with all the trimmings. It totally delivered.

Once I’d got a newspaper, I took a slow meander back to the room for the evening as my early start was catching up with me.

The next day I enjoyed the luxury of getting up at a leisurely alarm free pace to wander down to the sea front establishments.

Found a suitable seat with a proper view from which to enjoy the mandatory cooked breakfast whilst reading Sunday’s leftover magazines.

It was so utterly relaxing, aided by the nearby presence of a ‘free refill on hot drinks’ machine, that it wasn’t until two hours later that I felt the urge to get moving again.

I set off up the coast to the next coastal resort.

Rain was threatening on and off but I made it to another very acceptable sea facing café complete with a window seat to host my next pot of tea and slice of most tasty orange and chocolate cake. Just before the next down pour. More magazines. And another room with a proper view to facilitate more sea gazing time.

Eventually embarked upon the return walk where I noticed a rainbow on three separate occasions in three different places.

Here.

And here, faintly above the houses to the left.

And here too.

A hattrick of them!

Had a last coffee out overlooking the harbour before returning to my viewless accommodation for an evening of film and easy watching TV.

Awoke on day three to the sound of the rain hammering on the viewless window. Usually I’d find such a sound cosy, but in this room, it felt depressing. I needed to leave the room.

Spurred on by the wet and windy weather, I headed for the Hotel gym. Bizarrely, even the windows in here were not the type of glass you could actually look out of! Aarggh.

I followed up my work out with a pot of tea at a table overlooking the wild and dirty looking sea. Here I took the liberty of reading the Hotel newspaper. But not for long as my stomach insisted I take it out for a feed.

In this weather, the only thing to do was to sample the local award winning fish and chip shop. It was good. And certainly silenced my stomach for a bit.

Afterwhich I sought out yet another window with a proper view to accompany me for some more reading. If I can’t get out to be by the sea, I at least want a window through which to look at it!

Finally, I returned to my hotel fifteen minutes too late for a cream tea. Gutted!

My last morning dawned bright and sunny!

So, following a hearty breakfast, I set off for my journey home.

And I was delighted to be back in my beloved bungalow!

Sea & Solitude

Following an incredibly sociable birthday, I was in need of some serious solitude.

Cue, a trip to the coast.

It didn’t disappoint.

My B & B room offered a balcony with a seaview. Proper lushness!

Obviously my first stop was for cod and chips. Would have been frightfully rude not to.

Eaten under the opportunistic gaze of this fella. Who left empty beaked.

After that lot, I was in dire need of a little rest.

So I had one here.

And another there.

Before returning to my room for a rare night of TV!

Day two saw my intended walk rained off so instead I drove to a near by village to check out their Art & Craft Centre. I love those places.

Saw some great signs.

Upon my return, I took myself off to a seafront establishment where I enjoyed food for eye and soul.

Before heading off for another sea front stroll.

I just never get tired of scenes like these.

But eventually felt the call for more food. Opted for a trip to McDonalds. Easy. Or so I thought. Little did I know that it had changed somewhat in the years since I last visited! Firstly, most people were ordering from intimidating looking flashy screens. I opted for a human. Then there was the business of attempting to choose something off a menu that doesn’t stay still. Mid reading it, it changes to a different page. Aaargh.

Anyway, I eventually managed to order some chicken things. But five minutes after paying, I was still waiting (impatiently) for my human to bring me my food. As I surveyed the room, I noticed that there was an Argos style kiosk where people took their receipts up to collect their food upon their number being called. Oh! I fished my receipt back out from the bottom of my bag and hey presto, mine was ready! How times move along without me!

Anyway, day three dawned bright and hopeful looking so I set off for my eight mile walk along the coast.

I was greeted by these.

And then at one point I had stunning green countryside to my left and the calm endless mass of sea to my right. A feast in all directions.

No matter how far I walked there was more spectacular sights to see.

It was a fab walk.

Came back for a relaxing film evening before my last day where I arose for a sunrise run along the sea front. Fantastic!

Enjoyed one last cup of tea from my balcony.

A lot of time was spent walking but an equal amount was spent with my feet in their favourite position whilst my eyes and belly feasted on all that was to offer.

I left feeling full and ready for my return to work.

Sunshine … and rain …

No sooner had I written about the joys of my seemingly endless summer of blackberry picking, bike rides, stream paddling and all things Enid Blyton, when the weather abruptly switched in to what felt decidedly like Winter. At least in comparison. A drop from 31C to 16C.

What a shock to the system!

Many welcomed this.

Not me!

But how quickly change can come.

I reflected upon this earlier in the week as I walked through the fields, accompanied by the constantly changing sky of sunshine and clouds (hoping that it would not rain before I got home).

As I did so I had to acknowledge that both sunshine and rain are needed.

Whilst I love the sun, the summer and all things light and fun, this is of course, not the whole deal. Nor can it be. As much as I have loved this summer of sunshine, it has not been good for all.

In fact, it’s even been fatal for some of our most vulnerable; elderly or infirm.

And, having regularly walked through the farmer’s fields and thus witnessed the sun scorched crops, I’ve felt prompted to pray God’s provision upon them. (I’ve learned over the years that there are no limits to the ways in which God can make provision for us when the unexpected happens). Of course, there will also be a knock-on effect upon pricing for us, the crop consumer.

So, whilst the general consensus is that most of us tend to feel better when the sun is shining (around the mid twenties not thirties), the fact remains that our land cannot survive on sunshine alone. It needs rain too.

Both are needed. Neither work in isolation of the other. They work in unison. Ask a farmer.

Or look at the ‘green spaces’ around. They cease to be green. More of a sun scorched yellow.

Clearly, sunshine alone does not allow the land to thrive.

Even this beauty cannot survive let alone thrive on sunshine alone.

As I looked at the fields that day beneath the rapidly changing sky, I couldn’t help but reflect on the parallels with life.

We all love the good sunny times where everything goes to plan and we feel like life is smiling upon us. Yet things can change in an instant when unexpected difficulties appear in the form of unforeseeable bills, problems, tragedy’s or losses of all shapes and sizes.

Nobody likes this fact.

We can feel hard done by when hit by the unfairness of life.

And of course, the truth is that life is unfair.

For all.

But what is equally true if we care to really think about it, is that life also deals out unfairness the other way around.

What I mean is, that life doesn’t simply spit out misery at seemingly random, always unwanted, moments. Because if we are really honest, it also at times gives us unexpected (and unearned) good fortune. It is just that somehow, we seem to be better at developing amnesia about this kind of unfairness! Myself included. It’s called being human for us humans are way better at remembering what hurts, over what helps or heals!

Life brings joy and life brings pain.

To all.

Without exception.

Or explanation.

It may look different for each of us but it is true for all. Whilst it is easy to fall in to the trap of comparing ourselves to others, it certainly isn’t helpful. We seldom get the full story of the lives of others. Especially if using Facebook as a source of evidence!

I don’t pretend to know why joy and sorrow visit us all. I know only that they do.

Like I equally know that God is my only constant. The very same God who allows me to receive good things that I don’t deserve that have come through no efforts of my own, not only allows these good things to be taken away but also allows me to receive bad things that I equally do not deserve and have not contributed to receiving.

The very same God.

A God who tells me in his word that I will have trouble in this world but a God who also tells me that Jesus has overcome all that life threw at Him. And God promises that Him, Jesus and the Holy spirit will help me to overcome all that life throws at me.

Overcome not meaning avoid, deny, pretend, ignore or sweep under the carpet, but actually overcome. Which in my thinking, not only means to assist me to continue being all that I am capable of being and contributing all that I can to this world, in spite of my own regular deliveries of crap parcels. As well as aided by the unexpected bonuses. But also, to continue living my life with a heart that is open to all that arises.

This God offer of assistance is lifelong.

For all seasons of life.

The joy and the pain.

The sunshine and the rain.

In the words of the Maze song! If you don’t know it, check out the lyrics!

I am reminded of these truths not merely through the fields and the sky but also through my own life experience.

For, just as I have loved the sun drenched days of these past two months, I have also enjoyed a lightness of heart, even more appreciated and enjoyed following the early months of this year where I felt drenched in the gravity of grief.

Yet in these past few weeks, the sadness has begun to arise again. I sense it around the edges of my soul, creeping closer and closer. Only this time I refuse to deny it. I know it is there and I’ve been expecting it. I can acknowledge, name and allow it to come forth and do its work of healing. In the main!

There is of course part of me that doesn’t want this sadness to come again. I have so enjoyed these few months of sunshine and joy, I don’t want more pain or rain.

Yet experience repeatedly reminds me that when I fail to grant my sadness the same respect and attention that I freely give my joy, it begins to block my internal well spring of joy, taking with it my 3D full colour experience of living.

And I don’t want that.

So this week I gave myself some needed space to allow my sadness to come forth.

Crying is so healing. And so precious to our God and Father that he welcomes and collects our tears. Wow!

Afterwards I felt a fresh wave of joy as I wandered freely through the fields. The joy of feeling the sun and the breeze on my face, the space of the open countryside and the time to follow a path that I hadn’t explored before. I felt truly alive and flooded with gratitude.

That’s the thing about grief and sadness and whatever life throws that wounds our hearts. As we allow ourselves to experience and acknowledge our losses and our pain, a new awareness and gratitude arises in response to the simple gifts that life offers even in the midst of the hardest of moments.

A gratitude that fails to come forth when we fail to acknowledge the depths of our sorrows and pain. A gratitude that gets lost and blocked behind a wall of cynicism and sarcasm. Sure signs that we have closed and hardened out hearts in an attempt to block the pain. Not realising that in doing so we also block the joy awaiting to come forth following it.

Sadness and sorrow always feel more painful following periods of contentment and joy for it can be all too easy to forget that the sun will shine again.

Change can come in an instant.

For joy or for pain.

Wanted or unwanted.

And we can adjust.

If only we will acknowledge the need to.

Imagine if we denied the change in temperature and continued to wear clothes fit for a sunny 30 something day when it was raining and cold. We don’t do this. We know that we require protection from hot sunshine just as we do from the rain.

Yet when it comes to matters of the heart and soul, how often do we refuse to prepare or to care for ourselves in the face of the actual as opposed to the wanted season and conditions.

We must learn to work with where our hearts are. Not where we wish them to be.

In doing so, the season of sorrow will pass with more ease.

I regularly hear people tell me that they ‘should’ feel this, that and the other as opposed to what they do feel. And it is often the ideas about what we think we should or should not feel that causes further and unnecessary difficulty.

We feel what we feel.

It is not about attempting to force ourselves not to feel what we feel, whether by attempts to intellectualise, pray or even brute force it away.

What is important, is what we do with what we feel.

This does not mean living by feelings alone without reference to the capacity to think about what is felt or to discern spiritually what is happening or what response is required.

But it does mean we need to cultivate the capacity for compassion.

We still live in what is very much a culture of dismissing any sign of sorrow or pain as ‘wallowing’ or ‘weakness’, despite the truth to the contrary.

We would do well to give our sorrow and pain at least as much attention as our joy and happiness.

The two are a package deal.

We cannot separate them.

Without losing something of the ability to feel alive.

The reality is that life is made up of joy and of sorrow.

We can no more stop this than we can control the sunshine or the rain.

But what we do get to choose is how we respond to these by what we do with them.

Just as we take care of ourselves by preparing for sunshine or rain, we can also take of ourselves by preparing and caring for the varying seasons of our souls.

We need both.

Joy and pain.

It is my pain that increases my capacity for joy and appreciation. At least when I can confront it with honesty.

And it is the joy of loving, that can turn in to the pain of losing.

But, I certainly don’t imagine that God sits at his drawing board planning personalised crap parcels for us all, just to develop a bit more gratitude within us. Whilst I’m sure there is much that God does for each of us that we are not even aware of much less thankful to Him for, He is not in my experience a punitive God. He allows hard stuff and I don’t know why, but I do believe there are reasons that are beyond our vision and comprehension and that God remains the key to finding our way through.

We can fight these hard facts of life forever more, or we can learn to work with what comes. Which doesn’t mean we can’t have a few tantrums along the way or at times feel utterly defeated! We just need to engage with these honestly and to seek the help of God and each other, not to remain in these modes!

Because, just as too much sunshine hardens the ground and the rain softens it, so too can the tragedies of life either harden or soften our hearts depending upon our willingness to fully engage with them.

Of course we’d rather this was not so and we‘d rather the pain stayed away.

At least I know I would.

But the reality is that we cannot stop the sunshine or the rain, the joy or the pain.

Yet we can prepare and practice taking appropriate care of ourselves in the face of every season, of weather or soul.

Simple Summer Pleasures …

I have always loved this time of year best.

And this year is no exception.

The heat can be energy sapping but overall it’s my favourite time of year.

The ongoing invitation to be outside without worrying about getting cold is just too good to pass up!

And so I start each day with my morning feast outside on the patio under the parasol.

Food for my body. Flowers for my soul. God’s word for my spirit.

What a way to start the day. As in every day!

Then, in between clients when I’m working in Hitchin I grab myself a swim in this beautiful facility. Not so nice when overrun with the masses.

Once a week in between my private clients, I have myself a reading date. I so enjoy reading and yet no matter how big my pile of ‘currently reading’ books gets, if I stay at home, I’ll never get beyond the distractions to actually reading any of them. And so, I introduced the weekly reading date where I’ll take myself somewhere beautiful then intermittently soak up the environment and read my books. It’s heavenly.

In addition, I’ll take a ‘writing, thinking and dreaming’ date, also once a week. As I don’t see why these ought to be restricted to the stuffy confinement of my office, I vary the location.

Last week, I set myself up on the bank of the stream just by my house. It is truly beautiful, peaceful and refreshingly cool to paddle about in.

As the horses have just given birth, I also got to witness a new born frolicking around with such joy, whilst its mother attempted to keep track.

As I watched this scene play out before me, I could not help by reflect on how much we can learn not just from nature but from animals. The young are so full of energy and life, so open and joyful about the business of simply being alive. As evidenced by the antics of this new foal.

So open, so trusting, so joyful.

But I see this in dogs too in the way that they run with such utter abandon, tongues out, fully engaged in the moment. Heart warming to witness.

And a reminder of the challenge and invitation to those of us who are far from new born and not of the animal kingdom (in the main), that we too can remain open hearted to all that this beautiful gift of life offers (yes, even with all the cruddy bits), because as soon as we start closing down our hearts behind a wall of cynicism, we stop really living. We begin to become half hearted. And as far as I’m concerned that is no way to live. (I know, I got stuck there for many decades before I met my Jesus).

Anyway, all this time outside in the glorious sunshine is such an utter delight.

I’ve even got the bike that hadn’t made it past the back gate in two years, out on to the roads. It’s been fantastic to rediscover the joy and the freedom of cycling. Especially when there is unexpected fruit picking opportunities on the way and essentially a pub grub food stop.

Of course, I love to potter about in the garden too trying my hand at a bit of fruit and veg. Can’t beat using a Google inspired recipe to cook produce straight from the garden. I had some super tasty sweet mange tout this year, although not many of them.

My courgettes have failed miserably having not produced a single courgette (I had a plentiful crop of them for the past two years). However, a lovely, generous friend very kindly gave me a heap from her crop. Result! So, as I have guests over the next few days, I’ve made my first ever courgette and lime cake.

Seriously sumptuous!

And a lovely neighbour has supplied me with tomatoes and cucumber from her garden. They make a luscious Greek salad.

These summer days are rich with the offer of so many simple pleasures that I just love to indulge in. From country walks and bike rides, to paddling in streams, picking apples and blackberries and experimenting with new recipes, to eating outdoors morning, noon and night, to simply absorbing the beauty of the flowers and the nourishment of home grown fruit and vegetables. And of course, an ample intake of icecream.

Whilst sleeping sufficiently is challenging and I’m most certainly not at my most productive this summer, I really am loving nearly all that it has to offer.

So many simple summer pleasures.

And many are absolutely free.

The Nourishment of Nature …

How I love a Bank Holiday.

And this last one offered me two of my favourite gifts: time and sunshine.

With no sign of tradition, it was quite the treat to spend so much time out in the awe inspiring beauty of nature all without being wet or cold!

Us English folk certainly have the gift of appreciation when it comes to something as rare as a sunny Bank Holiday! With the exception of course, of a little moaning that it’s too hot!

Anyway, last weekend offered three whole glorious days of sun drenched playtime.

Healing balm to my heart and soul.

Following a morning appointment with some home made pancakes on the patio, I set off on Saturday to explore the changing scenery of the fields around my home. I was so NOT disappointed.

I was greeted by a stunning mass of vibrant yellow set against a deep blue sky. Such a delight to see and walk amongst. A sumptuous sense stimulator! What a privilege to walk freely within it all.

When I eventually tired of all those stunning green, blue and yellow scenes, I returned to my favourite spot on a little wooden jetty over a small river. From here I could dip my toes in the cooling waters and enjoy the backdrop of birdsong.

Still Waters

An utter banquet for the soul.

I find nature SO nourishing

After my toe dipping session, I spent the rest of the day relaxing amidst it all. Firstly within my neighbour’s garden (with said neighbour!) and lastly, an evening spent under the vast blue sky above my own garden.

Cloudless

Slowing down to notice and receive the nourishment of nature is so healing.

And more was to come for Sunday saw me on the receiving end of an unexpected BBQ invite. Result! One enjoyed in the midst of an utterly beautiful garden. Not only did I fill myself with sumptuous barbequed meaty treats but I also got to have my fill of the flowers scattered around the rather vast garden. All accompanied by some excellent conversation and a lot of laughter. Dee-licious all round.

Yet more was in store for me on Monday within a bluebell clad Hitchwood. Such a delight to walk amongst such vast and natural beauty. A case of a walk within WowTown for wherever I lay my feet or eyes there was yet more to be devoured. Try as I might to capture it all on camera, no matter which direction I stepped in, there was always more on offer.

WowTown

How I love days like these.

As tempting as it is to use our free time ‘to get stuff done’, it’s an utter joy to practice letting that stuff wait and simply enjoying the basic gift of nature in the now. Especially when it’s all so enriched by the presence of the sun casting its colour deepening glow upon it all.

It was a wonderful weekend well spent in the company of good people, indulging in top notch food and all within the healing, nourishing wonders of God’s great playground.

What a luxury to have free entry to all this, anytime!

And here we are on the verge of yet another weekend surrounded by the resilient glory of the blooms of nature. All of which serve to remind us that no matter what comes our way, new life, growth and beauty are awaiting to burst forth. Such hope.

How I love to feast on nature.