I can frame exactly where I was this time last year. Not used to the world of illness and death I was being confronted by it in a painful way.
The old numb denial wouldn't work. I remember the first frost and how I tried to escape into it. Anything to distract. It didn't work.
So this morning it is another first frost of winter. I need to explore it. I don the wellies, the wooly hat the gloves. The sun is barely rising.
Soon I am cold through. My heart is heavy. The grief pervades.
The swans are sleeping on the other shore. I disturb two hen pheasants who almost fly into my face and I now have photos of blurry lumps!
Out of all the confusion I do what I do. I go to work. But every time I look deeply into the fleeting beauty, the fragility, the faeries dancing, I see sadness and loss.