If it's a beautiful day but someone tells you it’s not, is it still a beautiful day?
If it's a beautiful day but someone tells you it’s not, is it still a beautiful day?
But this is an adventure and we are not letting a little rain get in the way of exploring. So, after a relatively leisurely start to the day, we got ourselves suitably attired and out into the Scottish dreich.
Actually, the day had already started in spectacular fashion when, hearing a whole lot of noise outside, we looked out of the window and saw wave after wave of geese flying overhead. There were thousands, all honking in the way that geese do, flying across the dull and damp sky.
The morning was lovely, blue skies and mild for mid October. We passed the uninteresting hours travelling away from the South East listening to the radio and finding random things to discuss. Who would have guessed that almost every other car on the M40 through Oxfordshire would have been a black Range Rover?
If you decided to put a word, just one, on a padlock and then leave it, locked, somewhere for others to see and consider, I wonder, what would you choose?
Because when you see something, something that touches you in a way that almost dares you to try and find the words to describe it, well, you can't just see it and keep on walking, can you?
Life can be very unpredictable.
We all know that. Things happen that we don’t expect and the world we enjoy can change significantly, almost overnight, at times.
I've spent way too long trying to write something clever about this image. Something about “chocolate box” views and changing aesthetics and tastes.
It would be so easy, I thought, so easy to simply get lost in a place like this. To let myself be taken back to a time where everything about life seemed simple and so very appealing.
I spoke to someone today who accidentally said that he thought something that he had created was cool. And then he realised that, perhaps, it wasn't cool to actually admit such a thought out loud.
If you let it, life should really be one big adventure. Full of excitement and spontaneity and fun.
But mostly we don't let it, do we?
A tow path walk, locks a plenty under heavy, leaden Wiltshire skies. Threatening rain, of course, but never quite delivering. Shared pleasantries with ramblers, elderly with dogs, and wise cracks with lock volunteers, younger, with validating logos and stories of herons.
Life has been tough lately, for all of us.
Just watch the news (don't really, please, value your mental health instead) or even read some of my previous blog posts.
I am invisible these days.
It was inevitable, really, I’ve felt it happening for such a very long time.
It was a challenge to hear much above the general hubbub, the incessant din, that suddenly appeared when the group stepped out of their training room and onto the sun-baked terrace.
The clouds partly covered the late summer sunset a few weeks back on my last visit, but I could still see the rain on the horizon.
Sometimes you get to visit a place for the first time and you find that, well, it’s not quite what you were hoping to find. A victim of travel guide hype, so to speak.