This week has been a string of bluebird days; stark and cloudless, sunlight beaming, air carrying the clarity that only exists in deep winter. The washing line is heaving for the first time in months and I carry the pillows outside into the sun to clear the musty wintriness that so easily gets trapped in the house and in our heads.
There are viruses lingering in small but inconvenient ways and because of this I crave the simplicity of easy meals and gentle habits. There’s been a lot of tea, and midday walks, and early nights reading. I look at my diary and think: how is it August already? and then I continue on, because what I’ve learnt about time and space is that we do have some control over it if we are aware and attentive.