Sometimes I know when a low is coming. I often crave sitting at the top of a particular hill. Last weekend I craved it. I dragged my children up it and I took some photographs. It was a magnificent visit, cool but sunny and crisp.
From their upturned faces I could see the walk was not the first thing on their list of hopes for a slow Sunday afternoon. I could also see they knew resistance was futile because I was talking with my (deep breath) 'this is happening even if I have to put you on my back and drag you there, even if you are almost my height, and even if you are now taller than me, and even if you complain it will still happen, so all three of you had best put on warm jackets and get thee to the top of the hill, and then you may come back and plug in to an electronic gadget once you have set the table' voice!
I live in a big town which is full of countryside. It is why I love it. The busy is there and the quiet lives very happily within it. It is full of big hills. My favourite hill looks over the part of the city where I live, work and where my children go to school. It is mesmerising to sit up there and watch life scurry on whilst breathing in the unmoving solidity of the peace. It's energising to me.
As I sat at the top, youngest came to sit with me and curled his arm into mine. We just sat. Middle child joined us and took photos of our feet against the backdrop. Eldest gravitated and showed us photos of us from behind. We were happy. And I realised I don't just drag them there because it's good for us. I drag them there because one day they will have a problem and I want them to remember what helps.
I wish for you to find what helps today.
The room above the garage.