Crow Hollow

Last night it must have rained, and sleeted hard. The clay ground on the track is slippery and drenched. I pull the collar of my shacket (combination of a shirt and a jacket) and that would keep me warm on my daily exercise up and down.

Head down, I pushed my legs to make progress. The overhanging oak trees whistled and creaked and crows circled, I call this section Crow Hollow.

I have been deep in rural France, in the Gers region house sitting a very ancient farm. Thank goodness that the break in the fence is mended so the now defiant and staring horses are sequestered.

Gradually my back improves, my knee is less stiff and my target of at least 10,000 steps is obtainable. On these walks I find thoughts ready for the blog come to my mind so I am spurred on. It is of course days after my 70th and I reflect on what I have done, travelled to, met and discovered over that time. It is the word discover, that reminds me of an advertisement I hear often on the radio.

Amazon, like or loathe, is pushing work time skills and pays a certain amount to those who I suspect want to move from the assembly line to a more interesting job. I digress, but one such girl who is about 20ish talks about how she thought about coding or engineering.

What she says on the advertisment is really clever.

“I am thinking of computing or supply management but what Amazon does is that it allow me to become who I want to become, even if I don’t know what that is yet”

These words are like wriggle worms in my mind, and remind me that whether you are 20, 50 or 70, who really knows what we want to be? Keeping house here, in the solitude with dogs that love me only for food and feral cats who slink and scratch each other, I too don’t really know who I want to be. That sounds deep but each day I am blessed with the chance to be different, and I take that.

Sermon over.

Back to Crow Hollow. The rain has left and next week it warms up. Only if you can see the Pyrenees do you worry about a weather front. But this afternoon the wheat is thick and ripening, waving healthy stems with a few poppies like interlopers ina dress rehearsal, wearing the wrong outfits.

The crows will return tonight to their domain, their very own Crow Hollow.