Ideal evokes many memories, as we had more than a few of those, and, for me, I can say they were ideal days. The time of the year is between early March and end of May. Not that we can’t have beautiful days later, but that time of the year, early to mid Spring, is a time of renewal, of inspiration, of happiness, a time also of wonderful light. You have to be there, for, on my own, the shadows are always there, even distant, even subdued. With you, they disappear, as the morning sun dissipates the mist.
The time of the year must conspire with the landscape, when sap flows freely through every bush, every tree, to the tip of the brand new leaves. Winter and the gloom threw the towel: their time will come back, but then it feels as if the pale blue sky, the melodic song of larks, the mils scents in the air should last forever. Small fluffy clouds are pushed by the western wind, the air is mild. We are walking, perhaps near the sea. It’s a week day, in the morning.
We have plans: our best walks are long enough, we have the shoes, the legs, light bags on our backs, birds look at us, mildly amused. The old camera is there too, ready to snap the changing colours, the grey of the sea, the green of reflections in the water. We walk past farms, horses in the fields, small woods bristling with life. We crossed railways, small bridges, wet patches…
We talk, of how it was on our last visit, last year, or several years before, of some walkers we met then, of the changes we notice, we look for the pub we wanted to see. Sometimes we are successful, sometimes we can’t find it: there has to be some uncertainty, on our ideal day. We walk on, and discover new walls, a small river, a beautiful farm. Sheep in a field laugh at us, in the serious way they know how to laugh. On some hills, where a lovely vineyard has been planted, they keep the weeds short.
There is a point when ideas start flowing. We talk, I take some pictures, time for a pause is near, perhaps at that elusive pub. I have written many happy short stories, inspired by a day like this. Inspiration comes on gloomy days too, but the end product is very different. If we are lucky, we lose our way, and have to spend some lovely time, huddled, scrutinising the map. For we are old-fashion in our explorations: we love maps. Some of them are falling apart, from years of usage.
We find the right corner, already discovered by a few other walkers. On such days everything tastes so much better! The days are already long enough: we have the prospect of several hours of light, time to find new paths, new crossings, even see a bird we haven’t seen before. On the return journey we start feeling tired, and how lovely it is on a day like this. Many pleasures still await us. We will cook, open a bottle – majority voting – even lit a fire if the evening gets chilly. And, then, we have the night in front of us.
Inspired by Three Things Challenge #M595
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