In many ways, this week was the worst yet for me.
I soldiered on, trying to accomplish something towards my impending book launch, but everything I touched turned to rubbish in my hands. I managed to reach Thursday without shooting myself, but it grew steadily worse. I knew if there was one more insurmountable difficulty, there was a danger of me running for the hills. I tried everything I could think of to escape the feeling of doom that was gradually seeping into everything I touched, but it wasn’t having a bar of it. Looked like I had found a branch of doom that was far more stubborn than I was!
I checked the weather again and although the entire week looked just as glum, with rain everywhere, that day seemed brighter, or was I just hoping for a little sunshine?
We hadn’t walked to our local lake in ages, having almost resigned into believing we couldn’t walk that far anymore. It was only about a mile and a half and quite a pleasant walk through town, but it was the return journey that always had us crawling home, groaning with aching joints. Desperation made me determined to dispel that idea and we set off, walking slowly and enjoying the fresh air. The sun was trying to make an appearance and I could feel the doom dropping away from me the further I walked.
We sat by the water, watching the assortment of ducks, geese and swans, going about their business. Most were busy hunting for food, while others were bossing each other about, causing short-lived arguments and noisy wing flapping that had the local children laughing. The sun sparkled on the water, the light breeze rippling the surface and for the first time in ages, I felt myself relaxing.
Anita was watching something on the far side of the lake, and I tried to see for myself. They looked like ducks, but something kept me watching, willing them to come closer. They took their sweet time but eventually they came close enough to see they were a pair of black swans.
I have had this thing about black swans ever since I worked near the River Thames, some forty years ago. My office window looked out over the water and I confess I spent more time than I should watching what went on out there. I hadn’t been in the job long before my new workmates introduced me to Smudge, a lone black swan who seemed to like that part of the river and could be seen every day. He once had a mate, but something had happened, leaving him alone. I knew that swans mate for life, and that Smudge would have to live the rest of his life alone. I was alone at that time too, so in a way we shared our loneliness. At least that ‘s how it felt back then.
The new arrivals made it to our side of the lake, and I watched them gliding about, completely engrossed in what they were doing. They ignored the other wildlife and seemed to be searching for more than food, or was I endowing them with the sadness I felt for Smudge all those years ago?
I took loads of photographs and tried to capture them both on video too, but either my camera malfunctioned or I didn’t press the right sequence of buttons. It seemed doom hadn’t quite disappeared after all, but at least the photos weren’t bad.
If the weather doesn’t improve, we may not walk all that way again until Spring and maybe we will see the black swans again. Now that is something to look forward to!
Thank you for reading – please feel free to comment or share for I would love to hear from you! Best wishes from Jaye Marie