[This is an older post - written but not posted before the recent weather, but I kinda like the poetry, so I'm posting anyway]
Our world speeds up imperceptibly. Things to do becomes a to do list; getting from a to b becomes process, becomes strategy - a plan, a way of life. Soon the moment you live in seems to be only a staging point for where you need to be next - and that only a brief respite for your next summit.
The weather bomb hasn't hit here yet, there is only ice in the wind. Extremities suffer frost, and the crystal glaze dusts the bravest of plants, whilst cold light pales hedgerows and rocks that are left exposed. For months the weather has been hidden by darkness, suffused in jet that has played with lights that pierce through the fog from ferries and cargo ships that promise journeys of adventure and hard living.
I have not thought of what surrounds me fully for a while now, though I have made some attempts to capture it in pen. This morning I find myself stopping again, reaching out to the dangerous beauty of the moment and asking my brain to stop its chessboard plotting, to dally on the now, the sensation of chill in my hands, the body heat trapped inside my scarf and coat, the rosy tinge spreading from my nose and ears - even the suggestion of sore throat in the top of my mouth.
The moment brings it's solace, a release of the senses that gives depth and meaning to each brief experience. The pure brilliance of sunlight full of wintry potential beaming over and gleaming up from the river as we pass. Buildings seeming to stretch that bit higher - flowers reaching for the sun, basking in the granite of their stone, the memory of their geological heritage flooding back; whilst the iron of the bridges snuggles into its crusted solidity thinking of days when it ran free in its molten youth.
Here is a reminder of the creeping paralysis of the future; that with each step further you think, the more you lose a sense of where and when you stand; than by focusing on the process you become myopic and don't open those eyes enough to let in the light, to see the shades and nuances around you. And with that I need to life my gaze from this phone and look out of the window for a while.