I miss you a lot lately. I’ve been feeling sad.
Today there has been no break in the downpour, so I don my wellies and coat, put the waterproof jackets on the dogs, and head out into the wet grey afternoon for the daily walk.
I think about you.
And the rain gently comes to a stop as we reach the field at the top of the hill. I turn to whistle the dogs . . . and the view takes my breath away. From below a huge dense cloud, so grey it is nearly black, shines the fluorescent coral shades of a perfect autumn sun. It pours down warmth and light onto the view below like liquid gold – so beautiful I hear my own voice say “wow”. I do not even want to take a photograph, fearful it may replace the picture in my head and would never do it justice.
I stare directly at it until the dogs become too fidgety to stay still any longer, and I continue the whole walk, bathed in this unexpected late afternoon glow.
Then literally, as we turn back into our street, the sun is once more obscured by the cloud, and within a few seconds of stepping inside the house, the rain comes down, fast and heavy.
You told me once when you were ill that you’d always send me little signs when we weren’t together anymore. “Little signs like the sun coming out unexpectedly” you said, and I smile as I remember this.
It’s like you came with me on my walk today.
And it serves to remind me that darkness and heaviness never exist in place of warmth and light. It can only temporarily mask it. The sunshine is always there, and you never quite know when it will find us again.