Nature’s irony in timing this endless stream of rain, just weeks after our sewage-nightmares-come-true forced the relocation of all actual shower activities to elsewhere, is ridiculous but not lost on us, trying to work out yet another daily schedule for our necessary outings with young Mec, who still doesn’t like to get his feet wet, but prefers these downpours over our elderly habit of cocooning by the fire. Though not very inviting, it’s really not that bad at all outside and once you’ve put one feet in front of the other, things will start moving, like they always do and it’s a blessing to have a youngster around to push us over that first edge.
Ivory joined us on our afternoon stroll yesterday, having wanted for ages to show me his new ‘ommegang’, the dutch word for ‘walk around’, which origins date back to medieval pageants, processions traditionally associated with both secular and religious rituals, beautifully captured in a lot of fascinating paintings that these days are easy to google and gaze at, but in this case only refers to our preferred habit of making our walks circular to avoid ever having to turn around, always exploring new options and what a lovely new option this perambulate was.
However mournful the influence of these dreary elements on ones mood, accompanying the explosive enthusiasm of young Mec, again and again discerning his inability to contain his joy, will lift all demur into vigor in doing something zest and powerful, away with that worn knee and dark thoughts of doom and deterioration, we climb hills and enter fields that in summer are locked off once populated by cows, absorbing these concealed views that look similar but with different twists and turns around every corner, intersected by plenty of water, compared to yesterday.
The quality of its flow with its thrust forward that seems unstoppable and bears witness to the change of seasons already occurring: it’s only been a few days since all of this was forcefully frozen and white because of the recent cold spell, but all of that is to be left behind and forgotten about.
Seen with that optimism in mind, the dripping view this morning could not have been any more enticing.
