December – a walk in winter

Today I just went for a walk.

In a sudden space, I did some stuff – some parcels and envelopes addressed to friends and family ‘on the continent’ – and then went out into the beautiful winter day, the morning’s bright blue sky paler now.

Criss-crossing to stay in the sun, I walked up to the river, along the bank of famous views, nodding to the Buddha, past the silent fountains, round the lake – through the holly bushes, under the plane trees, between the shrubs – admiring the Henry Moore (donated to the long defunct London County Council by the Contemporary Art Society), the Barbara Hepworth across the water. Taking in the herons in their nests like mistletoe.

Stopping for a cup of tea, my only mistake was a probably defrosted tiramisu so sickly I still regret it, but not the view and the still air by the water.

I am thinking about Christmas, about how it used to be and how to make it mine. Wondering if I can come back with some secateurs  and snip a few holly suckers from the ground, and put them on my mantelpiece in a sumptuous way.

At the end of the year I hope I have acquitted myself well enough and can feel alright. Not  think of what I haven’t done, of what I must do next – appreciate a still point before moving along.

Next year I am determined to laugh at the difficult stuff and be in the moment more. I am going to frame the motto coined by painter and printmaker Martin Grover which says ‘PANIC AND GIVE UP’. And sometimes do that for heaven’s sake. But mostly laugh when I walk past it.

Now the light is going I will allow myself to be inside, do some hoovering, or vacuuming – ‘staubssaugen’ as they say in German – ‘dust-sucking’! While my parcels and envelopes head off in that direction, I will try to make my house look like it does in my head.