Good Grief 189

A bleak day in the news along with all the others.
Work mooched along until the last leg ... which was spent in the utter bleakness of experience.
Afterwards I went on my pilgrimage to the sea which was full of wind and brine on the high tide.
As I headed home I wondered what to do, I could swim, I thought; I could walk there, I thought; or here, I thought; I could go over and go there, I thought; or there, yes, inscribed in our wedding rings, I thought; or perhaps there where we wandered when you were ill and we would sit and absorb the moment, I thought. Whilst, all the time I found myself propelling homeward. 
I got something easy to eat and something fizzy.
I wanted to get home. Even though you are not there, I want to be at home. I wanted to be with you, at home, and the sadness of the world.
I poured a drink to have with you and look at the garden. It isn't really thriving but I've done what I can. And I do love it. It is a place to stand and stare, and be.
I put on Holst's 'Planets', not Mars but Venus to start with. We need some peace. I stood at the door looking out and everything joined us, the house martin's swooped with each cadence, the movement of each leaf, the swifts slicing through with their scimitar certainty, and a flock of something made a commemorative fly past. Tears streaming, happy and sad, they are the same, utterly the same. The aliveness of the moment. 

Happy Birthday Sunny Jim ... more love than you can imagine, bigger than the sky is big (sorry cummings!) xxx