No more walks with my collie friend. He has made it clear he is happy to see me and receive ear scratches and cuddles but he wants to stay with his human. I feel sad that twice a week I won’t be greeted with furry smiles and bottom wiggles. That I won’t see him grinning, enjoying the freedom, exploring on walks. But I am used to walking on my own and I know that it means I can pay more attention to what’s around me and go at my own pace.
Cold wind on a sunny day has even the sheep huddled against the fence on my outward solo walk. A red kite soars overhead, floating in turns like a bobsleigh down a run. Tipping from one side to the next without effort.
Grey has turned to sunshine, at least outside. The wind ripples through dead stalks. My collie friend refuses a walk with me for the third time, so I am on my own again. The lonely pony doesn’t notice me, too busy eating with his back to me far over the field. I repeat positive words to myself and hope that is enough to make them grow into reality.
There’s a woodpigeon on the lawn. It’s the first in a long while I’ve seen on the ground in the garden. There must be something interesting by the compost bin as he’s having a good peck around, head bobbing back and forth.
It is very warm today, and wet, but the rain has stopped apart from the odd persistent stabbing drop. I am sitting on the step of the French doors again, not afraid to let the air into the house it is so mild.
My walk included a quick hello to the lonely horse. It was only quick because he didn’t want to chat today. Ok for a quick nose rub but then he turned his back on me. He did, however, turn round to greet my collie friend. They seem to have reached a gentle understanding of almost nose touches through the fence. It is very sweet to see.
There are some birds doing rapid Morse code overhead in the ash tree. I think it is jackdaws but I’m not sure if they make that sound. It doesn’t look like starlings from this angle but I could be wrong. I wish I could speak bird, but then which bird would I speak?
I set the timer for the observation today for five minutes, rather than just sit, as I’m behind schedule, and oh it went so quickly. My mind is preoccupied with anxiety whenever I sit quietly at the moment, so it took a lot of harnessing and lassoing to come back to the present moment. But how much better I felt when I did.
It is raining again. My walk was a soggy, head down, quick paced one, so I’m back in my untidy shed. I’ve had a quick rearrange. When I have more energy I will do a proper sort out and clean – then from I can have a view more of the trees than the neighbours beyond.
The breeze is shuffling branches. The Apple tree is quivering. The now obligatory leaf scoots diagonally passed. I can see one single white rose, it’s blurred, crinkly, making me think of a fluffy snowball or that artificial air-can induced whipped cream on a hot chocolate. Rose nods occasionally from my neighbour’s garden.
On the walk this morning I had another horse encounter. This one was like a young Shire horse or Shetland. Chocolate brown and white with very fluffy feet. He was all alone with no shelter. I felt lonely looking at him. He stopped munching to watch me from a far distance, so I stopped too, and gradually he plodded closer. At one point, half-way nearly, I said ‘You remind me of Bobby with your fluffy paws and tail’ and immediately he kicked and bucked, arcing around in an excited leap. Bobby used to do something similar.
When Horse got closer, we took a few moments to establish mutually agreed contact. I noticed the head of a Teasel hanging form his mane and again, thought, Bobby used to be forever getting burrs and things stuck in his long hair. I wanted to pull it out but also didn’t want to risk a bite – can you tell I’ve done a lot of hair pulling in my time? Slowly nose stroke, stop, slowly left hand towards Teasel, stop. Eventually Horse turned his head far enough around for me to get hold of the Teasel and ever watchful, I gradually teased the Teasel out. I don’t know if he felt better but I did. He went back to grazing and I moved off, with a couple of looks back at each other.
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And Then There Were Stories 