A Walk on the Wet Side

Are you giving something up for Lent, or taking something up?  I’m on my third day of trying to curb my dependence on endless mugs of tea (made easier by the fact that we had run out of teabags).

I’m trying to rely on herbal ‘teas’ as a substitute.  My caffeine-deprivation may be why I spent Wednesday afternoon asleep – or maybe the camomile tea was just more potent than I realised.

However, I suspect it’s more to do with having decided to take something up as well: specifically, walking wherever possible.  Over the last couple of months, I’ve been getting lazy, and I want to get out more. 

After all, it’s a horrible waste of being both healthy and in Somerset not to get out of doors whenever possible, and maybe even climb some trees.

And at this time of year, when winter is starting to turn into spring, it’s even more of a waste not to go out and see the trees budding…

Or in blossom…

And the snowdrops giving way to daffodils…

And three-cornered leeks, which according to my flower-book mean we’re in April…

And heather, which probably means it’s May.

But I don’t want to go out only on bright, beautiful days – though admittedly this February has had more bright, crisp, breezy days than you’d expect if you believed the weather forecast.  I don’t want to go out only when this week’s church service is at a church within a mile of our house (one disadvantage to living in the country is that one vicar has to alternate between churches in different villages).  I don’t want to walk only when I’m not going to have lots of shopping to transport back.

I want to experience Somerset in all its moods – even when the roads turn into streams.

After all, I can always wear a waterproof when it’s raining…

Or gloves when it’s cold.

And if I’ve got shopping to carry home, I can always strap my rucksack on.

I want to notice the beauty of the way raindrops sparkle on a thorn twig.

Yes, sometimes there will be obstacles in the way…

And I’ll have to decide whether to try to plough through them…

Or seek a different way.

I’ll be honest.  Even in Somerset, sometimes the view is rubbish.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling like a drowned rat, it’s hard to have the energy to carry on.

I know that I’m better at dealing with the physical discomfort of being cold and wet than at avoiding drowning in my own bad moods.  I’ve always been an extreme pessimist, with a tendency to look at the world through rain-tinted glasses.

Still, if you hide from all the rainstorms, you miss all the rainbows.