Thursday October 28, 2004
Depending on your mindset, a day indoors looking out at the rain is either a wonderful gift or a setting for cabin fever. There have been times when I’ve slipped into cabin fever mode but not today. It’s far more positive to enjoy the gift, and infinitely more rewarding.
Something about the feel of the weather must have informed my bones and persuaded them that, for once, they should allow me a full night’s sleep. That’s another wonderful gift and, when I woke at about eight-thirty this morning, I stretched, carefully, and with as much langour as I dare, and set to the task of enjoying it to the full.
“I’m awake!” I yelled.
“Good. Hang on a minute and I’ll fetch you a mug of coffee.”
There are of course equally satisfying ways of greeting the day than to sit propped up in bed sipping good hot coffee and contemplating the light filtering around the curtains. I suspect I’ve experienced most of them, ranging from the days when you leap from under the covers ready to take on the whole world to those precious, tissue-wrapped memory box mornings when you wake next to the one you love and snuggle up, leaving that same world to its own devices for an hour or so.
Hey ho. Time marches on, and nowadays I’m content with a mug of good hot coffee, and grateful for it.
And so we settled down to a nice cosy day indoors, sometimes looking at the rain, and sometimes not. It was a good day.
Towards the end of the afternoon, as the light began to fail, the first of several squadrons of wild geese came flying over the house on their way to the fields where they spend their nights. I went to the french doors in the study the better to enjoy this daily treat, and to relish in the racket of honking and wing-flapping as they passed over. They fly so low overhead that you can count the feathers.
Harry Cat came to join me and I picked him up so’s he could see the show better. He sat on my arm, doing the yitter-yatter-chitter thing he always does when he sees birds in flight. I watched, caught up in the wild wonder of it, opening memory boxes of times when I have witnessed wild geese flying in other places, at other times…
“Happy days, Harry,” I said.
“Yitter-yatter-chitter,” he replied, for form’s sake.
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go and see if there’s a little something in the cupboard.”