20 September 2022
Diary: Tuesday 20th September 2022.
I wake up to a new dawn and a new age: the third Carolean.
It’s been a difficult few weeks. The loss of a friend has entangled my thoughts. It was his funeral recently, but I’ve found it difficult to let go. Yesterday, on a walk over Malham Moor, Yorkshire, I carried his memory with me along Mastiles Lane, Roman Camp and on to Malham Tarn.
This morning I wake with a searching in my soul. I look out of the van window at the start of a new day. As the sun rises over Wharfedale and tints a bank of cloud with a pinky luminescence, I finally find the courage to let go.
The timing feels right. It’s a singular day with a singular sunrise that’s reflected and repeated innumerably in a host of dew drops in the field before me. Every dew drop is a perfect rendition of this new day. I squint and see millions of particles of light refracted in the grass. I think how remarkable it is that an infinite number of possibilities can arise from such a single isolated event.
The sparkling pulsing light reminds me of some words by Rosie Garland. She describes the brain as being dizzy with electrons like fireflies in a jar and:
'dying is the slow unscrewing of the lid
to release your dashing flutter of energies
as you unravel
shoot across the universe in lovely disorganisation
It’s time to move on.
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