It has been a long time - a lost time, really. So much happening, and yet nothing much has changed. The sun still rises and sets and the rain falls - sometimes even at the same time!
The tide rises and falls, and the waves crash in - each one leaving its own unique, elusive pattern, yet the eternal rhythm beats on.
There is such a comfort in the constancy of nature - the reassuring optimism of each new day - of every new wave breaking on the shore. Such relentless hope...
There have been a few setbacks. An emergency admission to hospital with pneumonia and pleurisy, and a subsequent pulmonary embolism meant that John's chemotherapy regime was delayed. Thankfully he has now recovered and is back on track with his treatment - one more cycle to go. A preliminary scan shows that the spinal tumour has shrunk, the lung lesion has not grown, and the disease appears to be "stable". Rain followed by sunshine ... and flowers still bloom in the garden.
Tomatoes grow and ripen, despite my neglectful stewardship. Sungold cherry is a clear winner - little bombs of pure sweetness lighten up this dark time.
My trusty travelling companion - another constant feature in my life. Funny how animals just know... and he certainly does. I am glad he is here, with that unconditional gaze.
We didn't get Independence. Such a disappointment. I was genuinely shocked at how grief stricken I was after the result. All those hopes - dashed. Forty-five percent of us voted for Scotland to become an independent nation - so close. I am still upset, but I believe we will get there one day - soon.
So - it may be low tide right now, but, you know, soon enough the surf will come sweeping up over the beach, obliterating our footprints, creating the shoreline anew. There is such hope in that thought - solace in the constancy of change. xx
