This may be the end of this blog and it may not. Just in case, I want to say thank you to anyone who's read it, to everyone who's made lovely, encouraging comments and to all those people who keep popping back, even if I've been sporadic for a long time now. I've really, really enjoyed this. Even if it doesn't stop, it needs a shake-up and I think this is the time to do it.
Can I just say, though, in the most predictable of ways, that the singing of the ice this morning was gentle and magical, like a whole village singing celebrations a long, long way away, like across a whole valley or something. Watching the ripples of water move through the thin ice made me all awe-filled. I was very grateful for my 5mm gloves as I pushed through the sharpness of ice that was thin at the edges and getting thicker further in. I was going to say 'lethal thick'. That would have been an exaggeration, but it was sharp, like a pane of thin glass or a bit of thinly-poured toffee. Not to be messed with. I was in awe too when I swam. FUCK, it was cold, but still my breath stayed with me. The sensations were fascinating. The high was HIGH!Thank you for a lovely hot water bottle that finally helped me find warmth after a long and beautiful walk or two on the Heath this afternoon. Thanks for so much beauty today, and for this evening's freezing fog. Had my bike been near, I would have ridden it for long enough to get icy droplets forming on my lashes. I would have relished that. I'm relishing it now, even though it's not happening. I love it when you close your eyes and the the little spots of cold fall onto hot skin.
Oh, there's so much to be grateful for, and this is why in some ways, I really want to keep on. Lovely, lovely job the other day, very welcome. Thank you for a new employer from a week or so ago who has already paid me. Thank you for brilliant emails from brilliant people, lovely meetings, laughter and warmth of all kinds. Sandison. Sansom. Allen. New friends, warm acquaintances, people who will become good friends, no doubt, no doubt. Thank you for the pleasure of presents, for Ruth and her lunch welcome, for bike housing and computer playing. Thanks for two, no THREE trips to the Heath today, one at dawn, watching yellow fill the sky and fade out the moon; one at dusk, in the same place, seeing the way fog thickens perspective and makes mystery and beauty happen; one shortly before that, when the Heath expanded to fill the time I had to get there. I walked a bonkers way to get where I wanted to be, but it was perfect, perfect. I discovered a frozen pond-puddle with green algae in the ice. I took paths I'd never taken before. I got deeply, deeply cold. Three times.
I had a face-off with a dog who bashed my leg with the actual log hanging out of his mouth like a bolshy teen pushes past you with a shove, pretending not to, but eyeballing you nevertheless, full of challenge. I met a blonde Canadian lady and her cappuccino-coloured collie, Agnes, twice. She (Agnes) had very blue eyes, contrasting with her chocolate-sprinkled coat. She was a bit shouty, but very sweet and the embodiment of eagerness. I saw a lolloping gangler of a pointer puppy, leapy like a rabbit and awkward in his back, frizzling with the simple excitement of being. I was barked at diligently by a black collie who took umbrage with the colour of my bag, according to his owner. Mine used to bark at wheelbarrows, but only if they were upside down. 
God, it's good, isn't it? God, it is. Thank you.
