“Are you”, the hypno-questionnaire asked, if memory serves me correctly, “the sort of person who enjoys looking at sunsets?”
I’m sooo glad I whizzed back into the house and picked up my camera this afternoon having set off on towards the school without it. There was something about the quality of light just outside the front door that boded well.
It appears that I’m the sort of person who’s perhaps over-enthusiastic about sunsets. Here are the pictures I took, all of them, in order, as the sun descended in the sky and we walked in a north-westerly direction from school to home.
Even the large bins in the park are gilded and beautiful.
A vapour trail gleams silver against the slightly purpled sky, offsetting the gold below.
The gap in the row of houses lets us see another layer of gold.
This buddleia is just next to the railway line and Tuesday’s trees.
Allowing Maizy off the lead in the open space we (inaccurately) call “the field” gives us even bigger skies to admire as the clouds and light change, minute by minute.
This structure used to be a church. It’s being transformed or perhaps “repurposed”. Its silhouette is if anything improved by the scaffolding.
Very nearly home now.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anywhere to be home in a positive way. Home was, in my childhood, not a place of safety. Since then it’s generally been somewhere less bad than other places. How can one, though, feel present anywhere if one is not present to oneself? As I become more able to be with myself rather than finding ways to “not be”, it seems I’m more able to be in the world too.
The square in which most of my life takes place – nodes formed by home, school, shops, shrink – has become more like a space that is mine as I more belong to me.