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Writer's pictureCharli

Still

Cold, frosty and still this morning as I walked Jack in the early morning Winter daylight. Such a refreshing change from the daily wet blasts of last week’s storm driven weather.

The sea had an undercurrent of restless energy that contrasted with the frozen ground but there was no wind and all was still.

Jack’s senses were on high alert in the cold air and it took a tennis ball, a handful of treats and my very poor attempt at whistling to keep him occupied and focused. He has had a tendency to follow his nose and then disappear in search of tasty morsels, but he is more tuned into being part of the pack   – us  – and so less inclined to vanish.

T called on her way back from a University ski trip, sounding somewhat the worse for wear but happy. Tomorrow T will come with all her dirty washing that has been accumulated in the past week and I will love every minute of pampering her and dishing up a traditional Sunday roast. I still need to be needed… occasionally!

I’ve had a lovely day pottering at home but there is still lots to be done before I can put on my glad rags and join J and friends to celebrate her 50th Birthday tonight. He has been unwell and working crazy hours so He will stay home, by the fire, with Jack and allow the warmth and cosiness of our home to melt away the remains of the cough and cold that has beset him for nearly 4 weeks. My voice is still croaky but I seem to be making a speedier recovery.

My peace has been shattered by the return of our upstairs neighbours: dogs barking, raised voices, thumping and stomping. Time to dig out some top tunes.

Still – a poem

Frozen.

Still.

White and grey gives way to soft pink and blue

a gentle awakening.

Green, a flash of yellow and black,

condensation hanging in the air.

Panting.

A tumble, a chase, sliding to a halt.

An undercurrent mixes and turns

breaking into waves against the islands

and gently lapping on the shore.

Broadsands and broad shoulders

carry the load.

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