Living like real people

After the exuberance of last evening - and the resulting exhaustion - today could have seemed flat and empty. Instead, we had the kind of lovely day that made things feel normal in a way they haven't for 18 months. I realise that much of what makes this pandemic so devastating is the void left by the restrictions in our various lives: we've not been able to visit, to arrange social activities, to travel abroad so that home seems newly-discovered when we return - and of course we've not been able to sing, though I realise that not everyone would regard that as a loss. And into that void - because Nature abhors a vacuum - has crept that whole sorry crew of existential worries, questions about the actual meaning of our lives, remorse about chances not taken, and what Philip Larkin described as "time torn off unused".

Today our vacuum was swept aside. In poured the oxygen of friendship, conversation, company, empathy - all under the hottest September day in well over a century, apparently. I'd suggested to Elspeth after last week's meeting that today looked like a good day for a picnic together, and that's what we had. We met at Benmore Gardens - all four of us this time; I'm grateful to her and Jim for making the long drive round. The nice cafe in which we met a year ago is, sadly, no more - what a stupid move that was on the part of RBGE, refusing to renew the lease - and we had to make do with coffee from a van and what we'd brought with us, but we had a table to sit at and benches to sit on and a loo across the courtyard ...

And then we walked up the hill and took over the Andean shelter on the top, which is where I took the main photo. We're a bit spaced out because two of us had forgotten to self-test, as well as because it was one of these hot days that would make the sweat start between you if you were to touch (I have a feeling I'm channeling my inner Graham Greene here - The Heart of the Matter, I think). But we're happy, we're chatting, we're taking random photos and the afternoon is perfect.

My extra photo is of the River Eachaig as it flows under the bridge that leads to the gate of the gardens. The light was so lively and entrancing in a way I've never noticed on this stretch - I just couldn't resist it.

When we went home, we drank peppermint tea in the garden and followed it soon after with dinner, so that we could fit in Online Compline. I love this service, and the way in which it rounds off the day in such a satisfactory manner.

Thank you to everyone who shared my joy at our return to singing together - and apologies that I'm so poor at visiting journals right now. Perhaps if I stop blipping at midnight ...