What if all that ever happened to you was in a day when you expected nothing at all. If you get home from baking in a restaurant, lemon slice and breads and scones and frangipane and some concoction called Blondies and cookies of custard creams and your apron is all stained with flour and your hair is clouded with dust and a walk is suggested and you feel tired and your legs ache from standing for hours on end and there is a huge amount of house chores to be accomplished and you might kid yourself that by doing said housework that your mind might finally become clear and cleansed and thus, enable you to move on.
Don't be fooled. I suggest that you grasp the opportunity and accept the offer of an outing.
The clouds might appear ominous and the clockwork rain showers could deter the faint-hearted but not me. I accept H's hand graciously. I don my wellies and a thick sweater. I rope a band of daisies into my hair and lipstick the colour of fall plums coats my lips. I raise my face to the sky. We walk in unison. The dogs are careful not to strain and the puddles accept my rubbered feet like a child discovering the slurp and slush of water.
We know where we are going. Nothing needs to be discussed. We have been doing this for a long time. There is a Y in the road and we take the path less travelled, down past the brown ferns in the field and the bellowing white bull, held back by a crochet of stone. H teases me. He knows my fear of bulls. The dogs sniff the wet hedgerow, jewels of water hang like delicate earrings I crave and berries once black and lush have turned into a frozen nothingness.
Down the lane we amble and the green furrow hosts the dogs' and their sniffing. A sudden shower causes a need for shelter and we stand beneath the last of the beech trees, leaves of gold and yellow cause me to be grateful and content that we are part of this place. We stand there for a long time. Maybe too long and I chance to comment on the road ahead. The one that runs South. How shiny it looks and black from the rain and how the twists and turns appear whimsical and bewitching at the same time. And H agrees and then we look to the sky and see a break in the clouds and decide to move on. There is much to be done before the darkness falls and so we must keep going. Down the twisty road, the path we know so well.