A gift to accept.

As age has firmly set in, I have noticed how my feelings towards certain things have changed.

Take this mornings beautiful snowfall.

The candy striped sunrise, stunningly backdropping the crystal white snow blessed scenes.

I took five minutes with my morning coffee just to appreciate it by candlelight, knowing that, inevitably, the rest of the morning was coming.

The struggle to do the school and work run (because I am a rule follower…). The digging out, scraping, sliding, gently slowing, hardly moving, route changing, the queue standstill-ing on roads that haven’t been gritted. Throughout? The quiet praying.

The fear of the low sun, the driver in front of you who doesn’t like snow, the one beside you who has never driven in slush before and the truck that doesn’t care about either of them. The potential school gate closure, a late mark on the books…

All of it a sign of how we treat the seasons like a challenge to be overcome, rather than a gift to be accepted.

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© Highcroft Writing 2023