It was evening we we finally went for a walk today. The sky was grey and it was windy. I wore my winter coat and boots, I wish I’d worn my hat. I’d had an awful day. Nothing of consequence had happened but I’d spent hours arguing with broadband providers who failed to provide broadband, then travelled to Lancaster twice to sort out my phone. Time gone!
So I was ready to put one foot in front of the other and think of other things.
Because it was windy and cold there were no flies or bees or anything. There were sticks. Hunting sticks is often a feature of walking because the dog loves sticks. Our walks are punctuated by me throwing sticks into the stream and the dog swimming out to retrieve. Retrieve May not be the correct verb, she finds the stick and rips it into smaller sticks. I feel retrieve implies she return the stick to me, which she doesn’t and as a result I spend lots of time looking at the ground and noticing things that are not sticks, like flowers and insects. The two do go together, especially in the spring. I’m not interested in insects but I do like flowers and noticing the absence of insects made me think about how much more I would notice the absence of flowers.