Day 50: A Welcome Visit

This morning the frost was once again covering everything, everywhere.  I was hoping to go out and take photos of it, but by the time I got out for my walk, the frost of this morning had become the water-droplets of this afternoon.   The air was cold, harsh against my skin.  All the frost and snow have melted, and there is a great deal of brown everywhere.  But I saw the first buds on the trees beginning to open! So that was exciting.  Spring is still coming, in case you thought perhaps it wasn't.

Today is day 50.  I was thinking it should probably have some sort of immense significance, and looked back at days 10, 20, 30, and 40.  They seemed to me to be a bit more 'significant' in a way:

Day 10 - Snow Feathers.  I never will forget the beauty of these incredible patterns in snow.

Day 20 - Handing Round Gifts.  What a joy that was, to show up like Father Christmas on everyone's doorsteps!

Day 30 - A Thief And A Robber.  The day I stole into the Kourion Theatre in Cyprus, leaping over the stone wall...only to find that everyone else had done the same thing.

Day 40 - Walking on Ice.  This was a dangerous day!  Nearly fell several times, and went out in spite of severe cold and many reasons not to go!

Today was, in comparison, fairly 'normal'.  I worked in the morning, met with a couple who are getting married next year, tidied the house, wrote a new post on my photography blog There's Beauty Everywhere, and went to visit one of the older members in the church who is housebound.  I guess in some ways that can seem like it's not very substantial, or significant, or important.  And yet, probably one of the most important parts of today was this visit.  To an older woman who is kept to her home and primarily her living-room chair, who has a few visitors here and there but some days spends all day just reading or watching tv, I suppose it was a great day.  Her hearing aid didn't work, so I wrote notes to her on the back of the paper we found lying about, and she made jokes and I laughed and she laughed and we defied old age to prevent us having a great time.

Yes, on second thought I'd say, it was a pretty momentous day.

Walk length:  20 minutes

Day 10: Snow Feathers

One of the most beautiful things about snow is how it changes.  One day it's little pellets striking at your face; another day you can see big flakes, beautiful in their individuality, landing on your gloves.  Some days it comes thick and fast; other days it floats lazily down and you hum 'Silent Night' as you watch it.

Today I stepped out for my walk.  I expected a long one as the sun is out and I had the afternoon before me: but I didn't get a few feet out my door before I was stopping to pull out the camera.  The snow is like individual sparkling feathers, and when the sun catches it, there are diamonds everywhere.  You want to reach out and touch them.  At one place I stopped to walk through this feathered snow where no one else had passed, and it had a sound like fine sand - whishhh, whishhh, instead of the usual schoonk, schoonk (or, sometimes, a soft crunch, crunch).  I wish I could take a picture of a sound, but just close your eyes and imagine fine white sand pouring from one vessel into another, and you'll hear the sound of walking through snow feathers.

It was about -9 during the day while the sun was shining.  Strange to feel very warm, with my scarf tied close around my neck, and also very cold at the same time.  My face felt frozen into position so that I struggled to smile at those I passed.  One of those I passed was a guy walking into Morrisons, saying to his mate, "Okay, so I need bread, milk, sausages, and Irn Bru."  Basic Scottish needs.  I stopped to take a photo of the train tracks, and an older lady and her husband stopped to speak with me, and we discovered we are neighbours.  She had seen me clearing the road in our estate on Saturday.  Imagine leaving my flat for a long walk and running into two people who live almost next door to me!  

I walked a long way today - probably three hours at least.  Everywhere I went there was beauty.  You could even see the distant mountains, what the Bible calls the "everlasting hills", from certain heights.  I even walked through a cemetery - normally quiet and peaceful places, they are even more so when covered with snow.  A lonely bird perched on a celtic cross surveyed its position, and me, before flying haughtily away. I had disturbed it, and it was not best pleased. Walked past a flowing stream, with the water steaming up where it met the cold air.  A lone tree in a wood.  Quiet, quiet everywhere. 

After a few hours I walked past a friend's house, and they spied me from the window and invited me in for a cup of tea.  I delayed them an hour whilst I caught the end of the setting sun, and then nipped in on my way home.  By this time the sun was setting, and I was so cold I could hardly speak.  It took me a few minutes to get my wellies off (having learned my lesson yesterday, I had three pairs of socks on, so thick it's difficult to get the wellies off! - but my feet were not blocks of ice today!), and they graciously gave me not only a cup of black coffee (is there anything nicer), but a bowl of soup and sandwiches to go with it!  It was difficult to hoist myself together and venture out into the negative temperatures to walk home, but it was lovely to know that my warm cosy flat was waiting patiently for me, as always.

Walk Length: Approx 3.5 hours