Bright start, and then that very clear, very concentrated light you get when there are rainclouds massing on the horizon but they haven't quite cut off the sky yet. Back to the weekdays in an unaccustomed silence. But the wind is starting up again. This is a day for new things, cleaned air, resolutions made real, the "now you've got to do it" part of an idea scribbled down in a still, inspired moment. This is the moment I was looking towards when I wrote those notes, and now it's here, bigger and more complex than I could ever have thought it would be. A lesson never learned.
    In the space of a paragraph, from silence, to wind, to a sudden arrival of heavy rain. Grey window, indistinct horizon. That familiar, pleasant sound on the roof of this barn. End of April, and perhaps I should get in some logs for the fire.

Stormy morning. Rain and big billowy wind. Woke early, then a pleasant hour with the papers in the kitchen, then the sudden thought: get on. Transitions these days - there seems to be no choice about them; sometimes they're hard, sometimes they don't exactly trigger bouts of self-approval. A symptom of the times, perhaps: blogs I follow have gone quiet. So have I. But the weather, the serendipities, the nudges, the sharp and unwelcome jabs in the metaphorical ribs - okay, I'm getting up, I'm UP, really I am, and - hey, how did you make the bed disappear? A guy could hurt himself, dropping to the floor like this.
    When we jump off, take the leap of faith, the first thing that happens is that we fall. No great distance necessarily, but there is that heart-stopping moment of falling before we spread our wings and rise to the greater height. This is the time of being pushed because we've hesitated too long, or because we're about to settle on this difficult edge and wrap ourselves in our fear. It's a times of lost patience, lost indulgence. Be pushed and move on and do one other thing: absolve the fall. Work through it, accept whatever lesson it brought you, fly. 
    So much of what we do seems to be focused on maintaining a status quo, so much public discourse, political effort, debate, argument, personal planning, talk, worry - how often is the difficult option just the different one? We're not standing on a rock in this great river of ours; it's actually a leaf held up by nothing more than the surface tension between two clear spaces. Jump.  

Drove out this morning into a damp world. Fine weather, sunshine like a fully sunny day, but wet ground. Striking combination; the change in the weather must have been from/to an extreme, and rapid. Two of the four elements temporarily out of synch: wet earth and a damp sense of chill in the air, and sun-shining air. In the car park the same theme: bright, dry day with big puddles.
    Family lunch at Archie's. Long, lingering look after, as we parted on the road. The unspoken part of it all. Then back to the ordinary. An entry here, just quickly, before finishing with this machine for the day. A film to watch later, and various leftovers to eat, that have to be eaten today. Early night, and then back to the journey.