Being Alive for Once.

A combination of circumstances provided me with a rare treat this evening. The first was that the old fatigue problem was less in evidence than usual and so I felt a little more alive. And then we had an hour of blessed light rain, the breeze fell quiet, and the temperature rose a little. Well, how many times have I said here that warm, damp, calm summer evenings give the best possible conditions for a late perambulation? And so I donned my walking shoes, threw on a light raincoat, and went out for a stroll.

The nature of the treat is easy to explain. My walks at the moment are made out of a sense of duty to take low intensity exercise, and can sometimes be an uncomfortable trudge. This one was taken purely for the pleasure of enjoying the experience, and that’s a rarity.

I only walked to the top of my lane as far as the entrance to the Harry Potter wood about half a mile away. There, I stood leaning on the gate for a while, gazing at the darkening path leading downhill between the trees. The atmosphere was utterly seductive, and silence reigned apart from a single bird chirruping from a treetop. And then I felt a sudden, intense impression that something magical underlying the natural world had come alive and was filling my personal world with an energy rarely felt.

And just to add a drizzle of raspberry sauce to the ice cream, Caroline waved and smiled at me as she passed me in her car. Do you realise what it means to a sad old goat like me to be able to say ‘Caroline waved and smiled at me’? I don’t suppose you do.