So I’m writing this post from bed. It’s a cold, grey day here in North Somerset but our new home is elevated from the street and from here, I can see the pretty stone church opposite and beyond the rooftops of the Victorian houses…a glimpse of the sea!
We moved here from Colchester, Essex over the summer. We rented a flat by the water while our house purchase was going through and the boys spent their school holidays splashing about in the Marine Lake, paddle boarding and ferrying friends around in their orange, blow-up boat.
I had various health issues around this time and more recently, which meant not writing as much as I would have liked during the second half of last year and generally feeling a bit miserable on and off. But nothing stays the same and this year is looking much brighter.
The boys have settled in well to their new schools, the house renovations are a-go and I’m enjoying getting to know the local area. It really is a beautiful, green part of England and the quieter life is slowly helping to quiet my overactive mind. Perhaps like me, you can totally relate to that meme that was circulated a while ago, which read along the lines of, ‘My mind is like a computer: nineteen tabs open; thirteen have crashed and where’s that music coming from?’… (source unknown).
Well from our house, I recently discovered there’s an easy walk to the top of the town, where all the huge, super-stylish houses sit amidst amazing panoramic views. I was feeling grumpy for some reason or other one tea-time, so took myself out the house for a trot and up the hill. From the summit – though that’s probably too generous a word seeing as it was quite a short walk and I was wearing fashion boots rather than hiking boots – I could see the the entire town below, the ‘proper’ hills in the distance and the sea (well, Bristol Estuary). It was sunset and so obviously, I tried to capture the moment with my phone, without doing it much justice at all. So instead, I stopped at various vantage spots along the way to simply enjoy the view first-hand as presented in that wondrous but transient moment…the clear skies, the trees silhouetted against the fast-fading light and the brushstrokes of silvery water running down along one side.
And as I gazed outwards, I felt a renewed sense of gratitude and magical possibility. Spirits lifted, I zig-zagged back down through the town and headed home happy.
Now I’m no spiritual guru and so am fully aware that these lovely feelings can get trampled down after a time with busy lives and overstimulated minds. So my note to self? Stop more often to enjoy the view.