It’s good to be home…

chicago viewWell now, where are we?  Sonface had a birthday, there were a lot of posts about that, I’m sure you’ll be relieved that the random witterings about my child and over-thinking thoughts about being a Mum are slowing down for now.  We went to Chicago and pretty much all this week we’ve been recovering from that most joyous of things, jet-lag. We had a fantastic time in Chicago, hanging out with our American family.  It was great to soak up some sonface love, enjoy some good food, drink fine wine, do some sightseeing, have a statutory grumpy day in the rain, delight in the marriage of Meredith and Warren and cope with sonface on two cross Atlantic flights. All in all a fantastic trip.

It is good to be home though.  It’s good to know where our roots are and to get back into the rhythms of life here on the South Coast. It is good to be reminded of who we are in this place, this time.  It has been good to have a Saturday pottering around our flat, in our city and out on the downs this afternoon.

Every Saturday and Sunday afternoon when I was a child we would head out to the countryside for a walk.  I loved the regular rhythm of it, the chats with my dad and the rest of my family. It helped my teenage angst to head out into the natural world for a bit.

This afternoon we headed out for a stamp around some woodland near us. It was gratifying to see families out for similar walks and to participate in our own traditions slowly being formed.

Along the way I noticed it was November. The sky held a pale sun weakly pushing through the clouds, mist lay over the tops of the downs like a blanket and the grass was a greyish green. The trees held dampness from the earlier downpours in the day and the fallen leaves squelched under our feet.

parkLate autumn is here. My skin was refreshingly cold and now I’m back home in the warm the cosy feeling is stronger with the benefit of such contrasts.

For some reason I’ve been slow to see the changing seasons this year, I always love the shift from summer to Autumn but I almost lost it this time around. Maybe it’s been too mild, maybe I’ve been too occupied in the day to day survival. Whatever the reasons, tonight I smelt woodsmoke in the air as we drove back through the fading day and it made me glad. Tonight we have a wonderful mix of root veg cooking with chicken, tomatoes and Moroccan spices in the oven. The smell is immense. The flat is warm, the curtains are drawn and my face has the glow of being out in the fresh air.

I love November autumn days and I don’t want to pass that by in mere survival. I love the contrast of light in the darkness, the hum of the heating in the background, the deep red of our curtains, the crisp sunny mornings, the damp dark afternoons, the swirling mists. I want to notice these times.  In the years to come I want to be attentive to these moments, I want to help my family love and embrace these rhythms and I want to draw us deeper to the one who invented them.

Hello changing seasons. Hello home. I love you.

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