We had an early-ish start this morning, so the dogs and I headed out for our walk just as the sun was coming up. The clear sky, the lingering frost and the emerging daylight made for a perfect start to the day.
Despite the still-just-about sub-zero temperature, the dogs seemed to enjoy themselves, too, alternating between sniffing everything intently and running around like hooligans.
It’s mornings like this that allow me to mull over my thoughts and to get ready for the day ahead. When we can enjoy the peace and quiet. Looking forward to coming back home, putting the kettle on and getting on with life.
A few weeks back, one of the gizmos in my home’s heating system started to play up. It seemed like only recently that we’d replaced this particular widget, but a quick look at my ‘gas, water and electricity’ file (don’t judge me) confirmed that we’d in fact fitted a new one over six years ago. And we’d installed the previous one roughly six years before that. While the problem with the heating was, thankfully, easily fixed, it did get me thinking about the way we observe the passing of time.
As we roll over into the new year and the days start to get that little bit longer, my thoughts turn to my plans for the vegetable garden. To the seeds, cuttings, trees and perennial plants that connect me to the soil and that will (fingers crossed) provide us with a tasty and nourishing harvest for much of the next twelve months.
We’re in a weird time at the moment, where COVID cases are rising fast but, here in England, we’ve not (yet) introduced any of the additional control measures seen in other countries. The latter half of this sentence is music to the ears of some, who claim that we should learn to live with the virus and just get on with our lives. But this is to miss a crucial point. When change comes along, we need to adapt to survive.
We’ve become passive consumers. Someone else has the power to decide what we can have and when we can have it. We either take it or leave it. We can have any colour, as Henry Ford so memorably said, as long as it’s black. This is a classic ‘old power’ situation, where power is a currency held by a few. Our role is to be grateful for what we are given. Until now.