STORM ARWEN
A branch fell on the path besides us in the storm a few days ago; Dash the dog leapt in alarm; ran the length of his lead and then came back curiously to see what had happened. On this side of the country it was the very best of storms; a blue sky, freezing cold and a high, high, wind. The occasional branch on the road and a roar in the trees. At the point, on our walk, the wind wrapped itself around us; Dash’s ears flapped in the wind, my hair whipped in the wind and row upon row of white tipped waves crashed upon the shore. I loved it, I loved the exhilaration of the sting of the chill on my cheeks; the sound of the sea and the leaves flying out into the bay. This sort of thing makes me smile and smile.
You need to be careful of words sometimes though, because although this side of the country was fine, on the east coast trees were falling, the power dimming and people were being crushed by trees. My glib joy would not go down well with the families of the poor people who died. I think there is a lesson to be learnt from this but am not sure what it might be except maybe something about how experience and perception varies.
The day after the storm was also the start of our weekend. Wendy was impatient for new things to do; memories to make for the children to look back on with pleasure later in life. It meant that after our long lie and my time at the photography, we were driving across the country towards Stirling. James was not too pleased at being taken from his Xbox and spent ages trying to make sure we would be home as soon as possible but when we arrived at Tire Na Nog and parked, looking over towards Lying man hill where you can see a knight lying down, with the hilt of his sword; the small knoll under the slope of his chin, he cheered up.
He cheered up even more when we found the woodland walk and its tire swing at the very start of it. He and Charlotte swung wildly, while I stood in the shade where the frost was still thick on the mud and the grass. We found tepees and sheds, we found wind up power sources for the lights beside the path that mainly didn’t work. We found glass fishing weights in the trees with netting; moss covered trees lit up by the winter sun. James and then Charlotte got stuck on a log and nearly fell into the burn. We crunched through leaves, slipped in the mud and Dash the dog sniffed everywhere, weed everywhere too!!
At two thirty we found ourselves at Harmony Fields where a pink haired lady called Jay, stood waiting for us and spent the most magical moments of recent months. I would never have dreamt of booking a cuddle tour but within moments we were in the goat enclosure brushing goats and being told where they most liked stroked. We ambled off to the furry creatures shed, while Jay told us how much she loved her job and how she had always wanted to work with animals and could happily stay here for ever. In the shed we sat on bean bags all in a row, each of us with a guinea pig in our lap to stroke. The children were beaming all over their faces while a rabbit hopped around at our feet.
From there in the golden beginning of the sunset we met the Shetland ponies then off to the field where a huge pig lay on her side to be cuddled. All the animals here are rescues, living out the rest of their lives in what must be animal luxury. Some of them have had terrible experiences and are reluctant to see us, so the Dartmoor ponies whose previous owner has been banned from ever looking after animals again would only look at us from a distance and the Highland pony and Clydesdale were so busy eating that we just looked from a distance ourselves and felt grateful that it was Jay’s foot that Paula, the horse, stood on and not ours.
By the time we had eaten soup, been to the shop for magic wands and dragons curled up with their child dragons, the sun was setting on the far hills, outlining the trees in its glow.
Charlotte gave the day a 100 out of 10 and James for him, even more praise, with a 9.75 out of 10!
I slept badly that night. I dreamt I had promised to make people I cared a lot about and who were very important to me, one of my special teas. We were at the end of something major but I don’t know what. I couldn’t find the ingredients for the meal and I couldn’t find the pots and pans. Gradually people became aware that they were not going to get their tea, some drifted off to find food elsewhere, others tried to find out why I couldn’t make it as usually I was so good at it. All I could say was that I was too tired to make it. I kept waking and then drifting back to the disappointed faces and my inability to say that making tea was impossible because there was noting to cook it in and even if there was, there was nothing to cook.
It is strange, the last few days, maybe even the last few weeks I have been pretty much free of anxiety and worry; work is going well at last, our family are happy, but in my dreams I return far to vividly and shockingly, to mental illness and those shocked hollow stomach emotions when you know you have moved beyond acceptability to cautious glances and stilted voices.
This morning in the remnants of my last sweaty nightmare, I lay in bed listening to the world service while Dash the dog lay besides me, wishing I had to energy to go for a wee, wishing I could fall asleep again. The ping of a text persuaded me out of bed to the oven to cook sausages and bacon for the family. The sky was grey and the house cold and the children reluctant to go to the cinema with their mum. It is funny what now seems normal and unexciting. Just the other day we were remembering when advent calendars just had a cardboard door that opened onto a picture of a cracker or a Christmas tree and how that was so exciting compared to nowadays when the door opens daily onto some small present. James really did not want to go out and Charlotte couldn’t resist winding him up. The car for a while was slightly toxic, where Wendy’s attempts to cheer the children up were met by silence and faces determinedly looking out the window as far from humour is it was possible to get.
James as usual tried to stop Wendy kissing me goodbye as they left the car park in Clydebank. I was almost relieved to find myself walking along the canal towards Bowling with my hat and gloves on and no more bickering. Dash loved the small scattering of snow and rushed around sniffing at everything. The canal was crystal still, except when ducks broke the surface. There were coots and eider ducks, shelducks and mallards and swans. Being on the edge of the city there were also submerged shopping trolleys and vodka bottles bobbing in the water but there were also bullrushes and horses in the fields. Some of the pond weed leaves remained white with the snowfall from last night but with the arrival of the sun it all began to melt. I kept stopping to take photos of the trees reflected in the water. That mirror of a surface; black water with tree trunks and red berries and amber leaves as vivid in the water as they were in the air. I met a couple talking to two dogs, neither of which liked Dash and in the space of two minutes learnt that the lady had a daughter living in London, had spent much of her childhood in Cambridge, had lived in the Amazon rainforest and on top of a mountain in India. I wish I had paused a little to talk more but their friend was holding determinedly to the collar of the Rhodesian ridgeback which really did not like Dash, so we moved on, on our way.
Wendy loved the film, the children were less enthusiastic but she confided in me that in the cinema they were entranced but that she thinks they thought it would not be too cool to say they enjoyed themselves.
They are now with their Nana at the switching on of the Dumbarton Christmas lights. I am showered, relaxed with much shorter hair now that Wendy has been at me with her clippers. It is pitch dark outside. Dash is asleep with his chin on my feet. It has been a wonderful weekend. Somewhere it is the worst weekend of a families life. I don’t know whether to pause and count my blessings, to fall back into ignorance or to try to wake up. I am afraid it will probably be the ignorance thing; we have an evening planned to cuddle up all together and watch films on the telly. I am looking forward to it.
Photos Ardmore point waves and dash the dog, Tire Na Nog guinea pigs and horses, Forth and Clyde Union Canal - November 2021)
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