The sky late last night was refreshing. Wisps of cloud dotted the dark sky like the first grey hairs in a beard, and beyond these patches of opaqueness, there stretched out the infinity of the night and space. For a moment awestruck the wind cut the humidity of the day's work, and in looking up I felt the relief of purpose and inspiration.
Early this morning the mist cast a ghostly pall on the suburban landscape I inhabit, giving mystery and glamour to the family dwellings and planned greens. Shinning through, streetlights cast with theatrical timing, enhancing shadow and illuminating droplets in the sky. Though still filled with a residue of darkness, the Close was filled with a tangible sense of the morning descending, fitting itself around our lives and absorbing our natures into the days events.
Writing these posts it has become clear to me how much the world around me influences my mood. This is not as simple as good and bad days though, more it is to do with the drama of the weather - and the surroundings. The fickleness of nature and its dialogue with the landscape turns so easily from placid to enraged, from pensive to playful and changes the complexion of the day.
This revelation irks me, mainly because of a studied dislike of Wordsworth that remains from sixth form, where I read and re-read him, but could not get over the seemingly simplicity of his obsession with nature; nor the abandonment of his revolutionary principles in his second version of 'The Prelude' that suggests a particularly unattractive view of the process of growing older. Yet his ideas of the philosophic and educational impact of nature are not a million miles from my awareness of the impact of my surroundings. Bugger.
In my defence it is being caught between nature and the urban (even if historical) landscape that thrills me; the sensation of the eternal and the transient intertwining to inscribe themselves upon each other and within memory; a moment of recognising who and where you are fully. These are the aesthetics and the drama of the moment, and in this heated debate I am overjoyed to be a comma.