Blue Sky Thinking

Another blue day today, though of a markedly different kind.

Took the dogs to the beach this morning, stomping along in fierce morning light, the colours bleached into greetings card pastels.

Then went riding for two hours with C across stubble fields, down grass tracks, through woods, cantering along hedges, disturbing foxes and buzzards and deer. And then made myself smile by taking my enormous horse over a jump, for the first time (am usually too chicken), soaring off the ground with strong back feet impulsion in a strange and lovely slow motion. Stayed on. Am still smiling.

After school, went shopping with Number Three and bought the ingredients for pesto, which he is now making in the kitchen, chopping basil and pine nuts and singing. A plate of pasta, and an evening of reading beckons. Must get to the end of Engleby (Sebastian Faulks) though I have an uneasy feeling he isn't going to be explicit about the mystery.

An anniversary. 11 years today that my dear beloved dad died. Thinking about him while walking the old streets of the town, the light yellow and sharp, the trees a riot of sad sweet colours. There were pretty leaves in 1996 also, ankle deep on the hospital road. My mother will have gone to Tyburn in York to leave the usual Jacobite tribute that my father instituted there, and now marks his own passing.

The weather continues gorgeous, glorious, clear and almost balmy. Had to shed coats on the ride. Though the weather man says the more appropriate cold snap is on its way.

The blip is of South Street, St Andrews, in evening light, looking towards the ruined cathedral.