solitude
Another overnight delivery of snow rearranged my day and left me with a couple of spare hours this morning. I was happy. The sun began to assert itself as I walked and the silence of the empty fields was punctuated only by the music of birds. The buzzards wheeled in slow arcs. A tiny wren perched on a thorned branch for a moment to catch its breath. An apricot-coloured young fox paused in fright at the crest of the ridge as I climbed, and disappeared in an instant. I stopped to speak to the pair of horses I'd last seen trespassing in the grounds of the manor house at new year.
Sometimes I'm not sure if I value such moments of solitude more than others or if I'm more accepting of them. I've spent a lot of time alone during my years of academic study and work and during long bouts of travel and living abroad. Alone a lot even while in a relationship because of work. Being alone in public doesn't bother me. I can eat alone, travel alone, go out alone. But long periods of living alone is something that saps all joy from me. I miss that daily routine of being with another person. At the moment, John is clattering through the cutlery drawer to lay the table for the supper I've prepared while he's put Joel to bed. I like that. All the daily inconveniences of sharing a life with another person are secondary to the simple pleasure of knowing that my solitude has an end. My achilles heel.
February 10, 2012
Reader Comments (5)
Yes, daily inconveniences sometimes cloud the bigger picture: company of friends and family is paramount. Then, maybe we wouldn't be so appreciative of solitude if we didn't have the daily inconveniences too ...who knows?!
Like you, a combination of both companionship and solitude is best for me. All of one or the other just wouldn't work.
Tracy, thank you!
Denise, but your city is so beautiful and I'd love to be there again ;) I agree that both are crucial. Either alone would be unbearable.