Day One – a thirty
minute walk in a nearby forest. It was a quiet walk. I met a man and his
dog. The dog was willing to be friendly
but the man wasn’t.
The thing about forest walks is I inevitably end up
feeling guilty. I feel bad that I don’t know the names of the different
trees. I can’t identify the different
birds by their songs. It’s like gate-crashing a party and not knowing any of
the people there!
Many years ago I taught for a while in a country primary
school. I arrived very early each day
and spent the first half an hour in the company of the canteen staff. They spent
their first hour drinking tea and gazing out of the kitchen window onto the
school playing field. They pointed out various birds by name and talked about
nesting pairs and all things wildlife. I knew what venn diagrams looked like
and could draw the outline of the island of Australia. I wished I had their
knowledge.
Day Two – closer
to home this time. I filled up the bird feeders with new stuff. The peanuts had
not gone down so well. The suet balls were gone. It has rained quite a bit
previously and I could tell that I hadn’t changed the seeds in a while – the seeds had
sprouted in the bottom of the feeder, sending up green shoots around the edge
of the plastic.
Day Three –
nothing to report. It was a Friday. I had planned to arrive early at my husband’s
work to pick him up. There was a meal to
be eaten and then we were off to a race night raising school funds. I’m not a
joiner-in and felt really out of place when all the ladies turned up dressed
for Ascot in summer dresses and hats.
I discovered that when it comes to picking winners, I can’t
do it without looking at the form – the horses' past race placements. Race
nights don’t include that kind of information.
I thought that my husband, being a man who knows horses and horse
racing, might actually be able to identify the races for real, but it wasn’t to
be. Everyone on our table won money
except for us, although we did win two bottles of wine in the raffle.
As I say, I planned to turn up early to pick my husband and
take a walk around the duck pond at his work.
I could have ticked my box but I was delayed.
Day Four –
Another “I planned to do…” but it didn’t happen. It was our monthly creative writing
morning. I planned to leave early and
drive further down the road to a spot that looks out over the Beauly Firth. I
have no idea why I was delayed – ah, yes, I wrote a poem instead. I’d looked
over last month’s meeting notes. What we
wrote then was notes, lines, first drafts that I hadn’t done anything with. I
needed to remedy that. What’s the point of creative writing workshops is you
never polish up those first drafts.
I went along to the firth later on in the day. The day
was glorious. The sky was very big and very blue. The tide was coming in. A few
gulls were gliding on air currents. I tried to breathe the peace and tranquillity.
Someone was having a party and the throbbing beat of
music and the drifting smoke from a barbeque didn’t do much to promote peace
and harmony – though the neighbours seemed to have having a good time. More friendly
dogs and unfriendly dog owners!
Day Five – I had
witnessed forty four young people being confirmed at St Mary’s Roman Catholic
Church. It wasn’t my usual place of worship, but I have a young friend who was
one of the candidates and I wanted to be there to witness the event.
“Who’s St Harvey?” I whispered to my husband as my finger
went down the list of candidates and their confirmation names.
“He’s the patron saint of invisible rabbits,” was the
reply.
This is not true, by the way. Harvey was a bishop in the
very early church who was blind. He is a patron saint of bards and troubadours,
and the man to pray to for eye infections.
Afterwards, I went to sit beside the River Ness. The last
flakes of blossom were falling. I wasn’t watching the river or the trees but
indulging in people watching. I loved seeing some couples walk in perfect
synchronicity. I remembered my school days and how my best friend and I were
matched for walking together.
Day Six –
there are just some very busy days and fitting in something wild just isn’t
possible. It was poetry at Eden Court. The topic was “Tea”. The poetry group
can sometimes feel like that party crashing moment when you know they know lots
of poets and poems and you don’t. One man, however, despairing of ever finding
a “tea” poem resorted to writing his own. It was a wonderful comparison of men
and women drinking tea. I suppose it was stereotyping – the ladies with the delicate
tea cups and Earl Grey, and the men with the mugs and PG Tips doing DIY.
It was late. I dug out a nature magazine when I got home.
I lusted after a decent camera so I could take good pictures of wildlife. I
learned a lot about soil and how it takes 500 years to get good top soil and
then a week of wet weather and it’s washed away, or a week of dry weather and
it’s blown away. I discovered there are lots of species of bees beyond “bumble”
and “honey”. I intend to be a more informed forest walker!
Day Seven –
that’s today! My random wildness today was drinking a cup of herbal tea. I
admit that it’s not so random. I have quite a collection of boxes with various “use by” and “best before” dates. Today’s selection was peppermint and
nettle – Twinings, not homemade.
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