The shift from yesterday’s promising warmth of sunshine to this fog threatening existence was brutal. No wind as such, but bitter cold, bitter.
The numbering of days in this lockdown is moving on so fast. Best not to look back to what has been left behind, or left undone, but to look ahead, to plot a course. Heaven’s light our guide.
n.b. Apparently there is a bit of thing when Mercury is backsliding for nostalgia. Being grateful for the good things is one thing, wallowing in the past – meh.
I was walking back from the shop, carrying a paper bag of groceries in my arms when I reached the bridge. I have been here before, but not like this. There has usually been some kind of run up, run out, or just gradually being run down. Not this time. I just thought, from nowhere really, “I couldjust step over the barrier.”
I surprised myself at the sudden appearance of the idea. I recognised this as ideation and important to acknowledge. I need to speak to someone. Then it came on me again, echoed in my limbs, was more familiar, less frightening. I thought of my sons and grandchildren, my family.
I walked back to my apartment. Unpacked my groceries. Went to an online business meeting. Afterwards I made a phone call and asked if the kettle was on. It was, of course. The kettle is always on somewhere.