Two mornings in a row I have drunk my morning tea in the garden. Underneath the chill breeze is a warmth, a scent, a freshness and it feels as if spring might just be here. The morning DJ told me that it would be 16 degrees today and was T-shirt Thursday.
My two youngest started a Level 2 horse-riding course this morning, following last autumn's Level 1 and I was back in a place that I haven't been since early November; the first of last year's course was in September. And so, like finding forgotten train tickets in a coat long unworn, I found memories in the pockets of this morning: meeting up with the other mums and sharing something of my summer break-up; hearing that a process had been set in motion which would cause me personal pain; take up hours of my time and cause me and my children to question who we could trust; training for a half-marathon which would represent getting my life back on track after the upheaval of the previous months.
These times of re-visiting, when memories appear unbidden, allow me to reflect on the life-distance travelled in six months. New, softer and subtle emotions surface as more stormy ones blow themselves out. I find that we have passed through what felt overwhelming and survived. I find that, with the warmer air and the first daffodils, I am beginning to plan for a future on which I really believe I can stand.