Sometimes, most times, it's just easier to stay in, where it's warm and you have things that need doing. But that path of least resistance was leading me straight down to the doldrums so I made myself bundle up, wrapped Noah warmly and put him in his buggy for a walk.
It turns out that it takes only six minutes to walk to the beach front. Although the air was still and calm at my house it wasn't so at the seafront! Gosh, the wind can blow there. It was the kind of air that slices across your skin like shards of ice, making your ears burn (despite being under a hat,) your eyes water and your hair and clothes whip into a frenzy. It makes you feel alive, and grateful to be so.
What a difference that walk made! I pressed against the wind for a short space along the beachfront, taking pictures now and again and quickly putting my camera away and my gloves back on between pictures as my fingers froze. Then we wandered back along the road to see the ducks at the man-made bridge and pond. The spring bulbs are starting to poke up through the soil like green daggers and the sight of the first tender yellow crocuses brought a grin to my face - they always symbolise hope, to me. Although it's ages away, spring feels just that bit nearer when I see them. I spoke for a minute or two with a cheerful stranger and felt better for that, too. Then Noah and I made our way to the school to pick up Daniel and come home where it's warm and I still have things to do.
But they're that much easier to do with a lighter heart, which is filled with gratitude.
