This piece is part of a series written in the dark months of Autumn/Winter 2020 and 2021. The days were beginning to get shorter, the clocks had just changed, and we were all starting to feel burned out, but not for want of partying, but because of the endless uncertainty brought about by COVID.
The Dark Months – One
Ghastly weather today, wet and windy.
Up early this morning, we made the most of the light walking out and back for little over an hour. It was good to get that done before the rain started in earnest.
Happily, I hadn’t taken my phone with me. I usually do. There wasn’t much to see or photograph; streets drear with damp, piles of litter, and here and there the leavings of a fox.
Then, rounding a corner, before us was a park, with a winding path climbing a hill. At the summit was a tractor silhouetted against the light, dragging behind it three mowers which cut great swathes of the lawn, casting a fine spray behind as water droplets lifted into the air.
In the stillness that followed the mower’s passing, lingered a scent. Overwhelmingly optimistic, bright, verdant, lush, green. Something joyous. The uplifting scent of freshly cut grass that you just don’t expect in late October.
Suddenly everything was bearable again.
We survived another day.