Its fifty mile an hour wind and heavy rain – I want to go for a walk.
The wind is strong but mild, I like the feeling of the wind on my face. After five minutes walking, the dog and I stand still, facing into the wind. I have my eyes closed and feel the wind on my face.
Everything is grey and dark and wet, if you look quickly. I look quickly as I walk. I like the dark, rainy, wild Scottish winter weather – its harsh, it challenges you to love it. Its not easy to love but if you do, life is richer, easier, fulfilling.
But being out walking means I don’t just have to look quickly. I have time. Time to see more. I see the silver ripples blowing on the long puddles on the road. The clouds hanging low in the sky are like a big grey fluffy jumper, I can almost feel their comforting weight resting on my shoulders. I watch the clouds being pushed, bullied along by the wind to the restless, rough white sea in the distance. The silhouettes of the dark, skeletons of the trees line the road, leafless and bare, they look lifeless, but are just sleeping, waiting for spring. The rich brown earth, fertile, farmed, looked after by people who love the land. (I think about a Scots Quair – the land is permanent and enduring, and ever changing – it’s the only real thing – everything else, we, are transient, fleeting).
The sun is there somewhere, I can’t see it but I find a golden glow reflected on the wet road. If I really look around, there isn’t just grey and dark, the golden glow on the wet, black tarmac is matched by the bright, vibrant green of the grass by the road and the fresh shoots of winter barley popping through the orange, red, brown earth. The view, your view, is as bright and colourful as you chose to see it. Life really is what you make it.
I start to hear, through the wind, the trickling of water, running from the field and I stand and watch, in wonder at this simple, seemingly insignificant thing, it won’t be here tomorrow, the land will be changed and new.
As I walk I feel warmed and grounded, I appreciate the familiarity of the landscape, how it changes and how it stays the same.
But then I start to get colder, I pull my scarf up over my nose and cheeks because the wind is still strong and the rain is hitting my face hard. Its half a mile home – 10 minutes. I switch off, head down, I don’t notice anything around me, get home, get warm, everything is dark and grey and cold.
Back home, I feel alive and happy, walking in the countryside in all weathers gives you energy and perspective, a glow and a contentment.
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