Never one to be inflexible, having gone barefoot yesterday (against all traditional advice re casting that first clout long before May is out) I’m back to being fully covered up today. Doubt and rain triumph over dreams and visions of cloudless fine spring days drifting towards long langorous summer evenings.

It is simply further evidence that I am definitely one to be practical rather than whimsical or lyrical. Whilst I would love to be poetic about nature and all the beauty which surrounds me (living, as I do, beside the sea) I’m afraid I’m rather too pragmatic/phlegmatic/unimaginative to do justice to the muted elegance of my everyday environment.  Shamefully, I take for granted the serenity and glory of the view from my bedroon window. Nevertheless, as I travel up to work each morning, along narrow country roads wrapped in blankets of mist or sparkling anew through the April showers,  past glimpses of calm seas or ebbing tides, I am reminded daily of the ease of life here – for some of us anyway – and the oft-heard truism about the ‘great wee country’ we live in.  

And then I realize that the reason I have time to ponder is that some idjit in front is tootling along the road at 23 miles per hour. In a car!!! Sure they should be walking if they want to travel at that speed!!! And I have a meeting in thrity minutes! There’s a slow but steady stream of cars coming in the other direction so no possibility of overtaking – anyway there’s about ten cars between me and the crawler.

Ahhh – how quickly the meditative and contemplative aura can dissipate! What price a personal yoga guru to smooth the stresses of daily driving and pre-work clamour!

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