January In The Small World

On the first day of this year Bodmin Moor is snow-cloaked. I am full of the joy of this as I top the hill towards St Austell and see two lots of fire engines hosing a house fire, the roof and upper story ablaze.

On the first Monday of this year, weary and early driving to work, stopped at traffic lights-

look up, see a circle of seagulls around a half moon.  Home life is cosy.

Mr, me, and Dog walk up the long hill out of freezing mist into sunshine, then down to the small woods. On the way we stop to watch a nonchalant red fox snuffling in the hedge; on the way back a robin chirrups at us like it is asking for food.

It is cold and sunny all day.

Shovel the last of the dirt from compost bay 3 into the wheelbarrow, up to the polytunnel. Tie up the palm tree leaves, put the cold weather fleece on the lime tree.

Come indoors with icy fingers.

There is good food slowly cooking.

Dreams wander into strange places: there’s a supermarket with sea monsters undulating in the open freezers; it was difficult to buy frozen peas. 

Some days at work feeling tired and hungry.

Resting and eating. We take a walk around our fields though they are not legally ours yet. We say prayers for this actually happening, for edging through uncertainty towards having literal ground under our feet.

We have gentle bickering over what to call it. We research offgrid everything, we make lists. Big world overcast with hunger and fear.

Small world has coffee and a pen.