However the other day I decided to go for a walk in the woods. I hadn't taken that particular path since Deefer, our beloved dog, left us 18 months ago. It was a bright Spring morning, one to be taken advantage of since they have been in short supply here since the season began.
The ground was slightly moist underfoot and each step I took released the pungent odour of nurturing decay. I caught myself inhaling deeply and realised I had missed the smell. With every breath I could feel my heart lighten and a smile tug at my lips. The sun shone through acid green leaves, the undergrowth rustled with wildlife and lambs were making a rammy in the field beside me. And the turmoil in my head became calm.
No, I didn't have a miraculous revelation or some blinding flash of insight. I simply felt good. I passed a couple who were sharing a small picnic on a fallen log. We exchanged pleasantries, commented briefly on the weather, as you do, then I moved on. I smiled at them as I left, and I think it was my first genuine smile in almost three months.
I continued round Gallow Hill with a renewed spring in my step. Well I did until I stumbled, nearly fell, righted myself then looked around self consciously to make sure no one had witnessed my inelegant flailing of arms ( think 'windmill'). The journey was concluded at a more sedate pace. A spring in your step is all very good but only if it doesn't lead to a bruised derriere!
I arrived home with my head in a much better place than when I had left, much to the delight of the man of the house (he hates seeing me distressed, dislikes it even more when he can't fix things for me).
I've believed for some time that life doesn't throw anything at you that you are not equipped to deal with, I'd just forgotten that for a while. Time, I think, to get on with it :o)