The fog has lifted, both physically and metaphorically, you will be thrilled to hear. Today dawned foggy, but now the sun is shining and the skies are blue, and it is actually quite warm out there. And England trounced Australia in the Ashes test, and life has a decidedly smiley face today. The 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep also went a LONG way to helping with the attitude, believe me. So today is good.
The village is heaving with people, and I suspect my poor sister is being run off her feet, but I will walk over soon and check out the state of Linie 8, and then wander round the lake. Or up the river. Or somewhere. It is too beautiful to stay in.
I wonder about how much the weather really does have an affect on people, you know. I do know that the long winters of greyness and dampness are appalling for me. Life seems to be grey. Neither good nor bad, just grey. And damp to the bones. Consequently, life is uncomfortable in the extreme. But this year, there have not been that many grey days at home. More like the freezing cold or snow kind of days.
Up here in the mountains, the weather is more definite. Beautiful, like now, or foul, like yesterday. But here, I know that the sun will come sometime soon, you see, and the snow will not go, but everything will look like a chocolate box cover. It gets so cold that you feel as if your face will freeze and crack open, but then, with the multitude of layers, it is fine. Not to mention the beautiful gloves my sister popped in my Christmas present pile. My typing fingers are safe.
And the temperatures have nothing to do with it. It is a visual thing for me. If I see beauty, I feel great. And this is really beautiful. However, this seems like a very selfish outlook, to need to see beauty. But then I think.... my life has been rather grey for a good while, so this could be the reward for surviving the greyness. Time out of real life. There are no mountains back home either, and I love the mountains deeply.
Diana always comments on the noise in the UK when she comes home. After living in NZ, she notices that the background noise never stops, and that is something I notice here too. Here, there can be and often is, silence, especially when I am out walking, and that encourages thought, and meditation of sorts. Mindfulness is easier to practice when you have the combination of beauty and silence. Well, when you are trying to learn HOW to be mindful, anyway. And I am definitely in the learning phase.
My boots are on, and my coat is waiting, so I will gather my wits and my sticks, and go and walk, and listen to the snow crunching under my feet, and think of the individual snowflakes which I am crushing as I walk, and drink in the immensity of the mountains, and their splendour. I will think back too, on what 2010 has meant for me, and what I have learned.
And maybe I will take a glance at what 2011 may hold. Briefly. Because there is only now. This moment, today, isn't there, and I want to enjoy it completely and live. Really live.
What did I say the other day? I want to live fully, laugh often, and love with all my heart. I need to remember that, whether the days be grey or golden, don't I..........
Life is one long learning process.