Day 61: Time To Think

"Is it too much to ask
I want a comfortable bed that won't hurt my back
Food to fill me up
And warm clothes and all that stuff
Pens that won't run out of ink
And cool quiet
And time to think...."
       -Mary Chapin Carpenter

Having someone else living in the flat with me is a new thing, and something I have to get re-used to.  I have people stay with me for short periods, but to have my sister living here for a month is new and different.  I love it, and we are having great times together already; but this afternoon I was reminded that one of the things I still need is cool quiet, and time to think. 

So this afternoon Pin did some writing and cleaning and bits and pieces, and I went out for a solitary walk.  The air was cold, and the wind blew around and threatened to cut through under my warm hat.  (But it couldn't.)  I wanted to go a really long walk, an hour or two, but after ten minutes or so realised that I am still a bit weary from being unwell earlier in the week, so turned aside and made it a shorter walk.  It's good to be able to do that - to recognise when it would be too much, and stop before it's too late.  Something I've been trying to get my mother to do for years! :) 

I walked past an area that over the winter was a winter wonderland of snow and sparkling ice and Christmas trees and all beauty, and now is simply brown, bare, wet, mudlands.  What is worse, it is being developed for (I believe) new houses.  It makes me a little sad.  Only a year or two ago I discovered this whole walking pathway that wound around through actual woods and grass and little mini lochs and natural beauty - and now they are ripping it up to build those cookie-cutter houses that all look the same and feel the same and do not make me marvel at anything except man's ability to take God's creation, rip it up, and build ugliness on top of it.  Of course, I live in a block of flats that did just that once...but I didn't know what it looked like then.  I remember talking with one of the older people in the church once, a lady who remembered what Gartlea looked like before all these houses and flats were built.  "We used to go sledding down that hill," she mused, and there was a long pause while she saw the place as it was in her mind, snow and hills and small children roaring with laughter as they careered all the way down the hill, nothing at the top and nothing at the bottom.  And now I park my car there and hundreds of people are squeezed into tiny little blocks all over it.  It does make you a little sad. 

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I haven't decided where I'm walking yet but am looking forward to a long birthday ramble!

Walk length: 30 minutes