This photo is from a couple of days ago on my early morning walk, a much needed daily respite within a completely crazy week. In between study and work this week I crammed an end-of-season cricket club function, a tour of a high school, family staying for a night on their way through to somewhere else, my son’s school district cricket trials, endless watering to keep my plants alive, a dear friend’s funeral, contractors working in the backyard, and my son’s birthday outing with a sleepover. I’m not sure that any of it has sunk in yet. I feel as if I’ve been buffeted from all sides by gusting winds and I’m still trying to keep my balance and some perspective in the face of the remaining stiff breeze.
But each morning the sun peeks above the horizon and brings the day inexorably into being. And each evening it sets. No matter how much I wish that things would slow down, or stop, or just disappear. The weeks slide by and the dawn air gets cooler, even if the day still bakes and the rain doesn’t come. Round and round in my head go thoughts about a too-short sixty-eight years, a very fast twelve years, and a looming fifty years casting it’s shadow over me. I’m thankful I’m still here, thankful for each day as it comes, despite the mishaps, difficulties and sadnesses. There are many joys and beautiful things to celebrate, including sunrises. But perhaps, somehow, the days could be a little less crazy! So I take a deep breath and, no matter what, I go on my morning walk and grab hold of the sunrise and the tree-cloaked hills, to steady me against the gales that blow through every now and then.