As the year rapidly advances towards the winter solstice, so my reluctance to get out of bed in the morning increases. The short days and long nights pander to my love of sleep. Sleep would be my specialist subject if I were ever on Mastermind.
This morning, however, if I hadn’t dragged my comatose limbs from my womb-like cocoon, I would have missed a wonderful day. Again “earth as hard as iron, water like a stone”, but fully thermalled-up I was as snug as a gardener in a rug. The sky was a single coat of Dulux Perfect Blue and a scant few magnolia leaves hung on and drooped down revealing grey mouse fur buds.
Myself and Max’s Dad did some remedial protection on thawed ground and dug up blackened dahlias for storage. We pruned water shoots from apples trees. One of us (not me) took little encouragement to climb into the open goblet to reach high stragglers. We drank tea and sat looking at the mirror sea until the cold forced more action, all whilst Max bounded around the garden chasing distant seagulls and a variety of sticks.
It was definitely worth getting out of bed for.