A shit walk.
For the first time I did no more to and fro.
I decided to have a day not going anywhere, sorting stuff out and doing a local walk.
I struck out on the nearest footpath, passed the sewerage works, down to the river with the constant backdrop of traffic noise from the dual carriageway. Luckily I wore wellingtons and plodged through mud.
With no obvious markers, I missed the path back to the village and ended up going much further than I had intended. I felt knackered and lifeless. I trudged on and made the mistake of taking the path through the moss. The light was fading and I was in a swamp. It was impenetrable. I had the ludicrous thought that I would be lost without trace yards from home and become the modern equivalent of one of Heaney’s bog folk. I retraced my steps and emerged back into the world.
I tried to remind myself that there are good reasons why I have done this.
I tried to think of all those things that made sense at the time.
I tried not to get over anxious about the neighbour problem.
A flight if geese called out overhead.
I looked up and I tried to imagine that I was walking out over my beloved marshes down to the long and vast expanse of empty beach to the sea.