Notes from May.
Last year, we spent much of May outside; cooking, eating, walking. But, if I’m honest, it’s been hard to muster the motivation to get outside this month. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the exhaustion of life returning to some degree of ‘normality’ (I feel wiped out more easily by social engagements these days), or maybe it’s just natural for motivation to ebb and flow and something we should embrace; a reflection of the rhythms we see in the natural world, like tides and seasons.
The rain, which finally came at the start of the month, definitely has not helped. The belated April showers seemed embarrassed by their lack of punctuality and threw themselves at the job with extra enthusiasm and stamina. It has been a wet month of dashing outside in the fleeting moments of sunshine. Short walks, where you are never wearing the right clothing for the temperature or weather.
With the rain though has come an explosion of green. After the dry April, my first walk around the pond after the rain was a surprise. The spaces I had been able to see through between the trees were suddenly dense with growth. The whole atmosphere of the path that winds through the trees has changed. There’s a natural luminosity, even without the sun. Walking under this new translucent canopy, the tree trunks stretch up like the columns of an ancient cathedral to the leaf-roof above, softly pattering with the rain.
Much of the blossom has faded and fallen, carpeting the ground in pink. The green replacing it is bright, especially against the dark grey of heavy clouds. Each leaf seems to catch the light.
The smell of wet ground evokes many a happy childhood memory. Of being outside, of cycle rides and days out in the Peak District, of trees and streams, and long days with sandwiches and rain coats packed in our bags. The smell is so evocative that, walking through the dripping trees, the memories almost come to life right in front of me. But even now, back at home, as the smell has faded they have already slipped just out of reach.
These memories bring a sense of comfort. In a month where getting out of the house has felt like an enormous effort, they remind me why I love being outdoors, and even at times when I needed it, just that I do love being outdoors. And then, just in time for the very end of the month, someone flipped the switch. This May has ended with sunburnt shoulders, sandy feet and salty hair. I feel that bodes well for the new month ahead.