I woke up this morning, and Spring was back. Somewhere I lost a whole chunk of the year, between hemispheres. What happened to the daffodils?
Somewhere I lost me too. The only way to survive three and a half weeks in each other’s company was to forget the person I’ve been learning to be this last year. It’s taken me nearly a fortnight to crawl out from under my duvet and get back out walking the hills.
This afternoon, stirred from my puddle of self-loathing by sunshine, the world’s most adorable puppy, and photos of the Lake District, I finally got myself out. I sat for a little while on our bench (all by myself, no walking buddy on Monday) and looked at the world.
I am not very happy with my life at the moment, and can’t see a way to fix it, but am trying to convince myself that a world full of hoppettyskippetty lambs cannot be such a bad place. Can it?