Saved By The Sky

It doesn’t take a great deal to please me although this can mean a sense of injustice when someone who doesn’t demand much is let down by uncompromising variables. Today was nearly such an occasion.

I work in the harbour at Portslade- four miles from the flat in Queens Park. I love my job, working for a conservation charity, and I have to really as the remuneration is certainly not sufficient to get one out of bed in the morning with a spring in the step. I’ve often said that I would rather do without fortune in life if I could simply be happy with the task that is set me. So I cannot complain. When one is employed in what is a largely voluntary sector it has to be remembered that full time occupation is something to be seen as a privilege. And it is. I am gainfully employed among good folk in what is probably the best job I have ever had. I’m more than happy to trade a couple of foreign holidays a year for the lack of dread that a Monday morning brings.

Following on from that is my view of the working rat race. No more epitomised by anything other than a long bus ride home where most folk look like they are sentenced to the journey. Such misery lends my environmentally tuned character to depressive thoughts. So I walk home each night simply to avoid it. And what a joy this often is.

The beach path is a simple delight- especially when sparse. I find myself lost in dreamy thought or by another splendid playlist from Spotify. Or both. The best time for walking is in spring and autumn if a person wishes splendid isolation. The only accompaniment being the committed jogger and the dutiful dog walker. In summer it can just be too busy and in winter perhaps a bit cold. Although the extra layers compensate for this and all I need to look for is a freezing wind or rain which can sometimes spell cancellation. Something I am desperate to avoid when there is much to mull over.

Tonight the Met Office suggested freezing showers around the time I was due to leave. Low and behold one squally effort arrived on cue. I was determined to ride it out although walking in it was never an option.

As I left the office so the rain abated. A quick step to the harbours edge indicated clear skies backing up and the resistance to an easy option of becoming a conforming passenger on another claustrophobic shoebox was averted. Very few were on the path tonight and the walk was once again a musical joy.

I realise how important and special such time is. Whilst, these days, I spend much of my time alone it is not something that invites loneliness often. I’ve always been that way. Nature is my favourite companion, which has caused friction is some of my personal relationships, but that is who I am. I cannot be at my best for someone else unless I am in tune with my surroundings. People like me are (un)affectionately known as tree-huggers.

On the downside, as a result of a little recent emotional upheaval, the fags have entered the house. I guess we all have our vices but having successfully banished them for six weeks I know it can be done. It’s a question of summoning the will power and convincing myself that my brain is fooled to think that such habit has any real enjoyment. I’ll get there. Tomorrow. Or the next day.

Eeyore