Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Sunny saturday morning

It's what weekends were made for, waking to the sun seeping through the curtains, the sound of birdsong and the promise of spring. Yet its 8am, and feels indecent to rise this early when a lie in of delicious lethargy promises to be so satisfying. I compile a list of what I SHOULD get up for:
Paint the bathroom
Finish a 5,000 word essay
Clean the patio before the hosepipe ban
Clear out the garage
Clean upstairs
Raise the children and make breakfast
But here's what I WOULD get up for:

Get in the car and drive to the coast to feel the numbing cold sea water washing over my toes
Stand under the wide blue sky with seagulls wheeling overhead clutching a mug of tea and slice of cake

It's space we need, domestic life is too restrictive, although the space in the bed is luxurious, the space outside promises more. I'm enjoying that space in my new place of work - Hatfield Forest, the familiar and new landscapes opening up. Working with children I see it fresh through their eyes, the wide sweeps of sky punctuated by ancient stauesque trees, plains of rolling grass and the smooth surface of the lake, ripples breaking as a lone moorhen skuds across the surface. Our minibeast hunts reveal the detail of the forest floor, the minutae of teeming life all around. One of the teachers said, "The children look so small out here". We're all small in this place, just a blip on the 1200 year timeline of the forest, dwarfed by the giant trees and blast wide sky. Even the incessant planes are tiny from down here.

Its a place of character and characters, friendly people and welcoming landscapes, a place to explore and discover the detail behind the space.

A place to get out of bed for.