Back at the farm now, and boy is that green soothing. Feeling energised to be home, all that meditation must do something to the house. Nice to be away from people again, especially stressed out people travelling.
When I was a child I lived in Mount Isa in Queensland and it was hot and arid and red. Once we flew back to the UK and all the way from Heathrow airport to South Wales, I could not shut up about the green. And me an introvert too! It was such a novelty to a desert creature, as I was then. I have a sense of that tonight, but reduced. The Pyrénées-Orientales have much beauty but not that much green. It must bake the mind there in summer. The Canigou in its majesty, looks snow-capped down, and dominates the landscape; a majestic sight to behold. But the towns are closed in and people live on top of one another. Imagine stepping out of Sainsbury’s to see a ~2800m snowy-mountain peak in a virulent blue sky. Pretty cool.
French regional airports are a pleasure, clean, and chilled. I can fully recommend them. At Perpignan they even had a shoe-horn to help you put your shoes back on should you need to take them off for the metal scanner. These little touches, which the French do so well, make you feel appreciated. Someone has given thought. Back to Stanstead all tatty and rushed. There is a lower prevalence of phone-zombies in the South of France. Get off the plane in the UK and the phone-zombies suddenly manifest in their droves. And all hail the M25 and South Mimms services! Bliss.
On the way out, I had the full-Monty in security, picking up a few more sieverts from the whole-body x-ray scanner and I nearly asked the guy if he could comment on the state of my colon. I must have quite a few of these sieverts now, what with all the CT scans and X-rays. And I wonder do they get enough screening, enough protection, the operatives. They are at it all day. Why don’t they wear x-ray dose monitoring badges? On the way back the Douane in France took a very long time about my passport which makes me suspect that I am some “watch” list or other. The wife was through in seconds, but not me.
That sense of not being closed in here, feels good.
And do you know what? Birdsong. I missed it. It wasn’t until I sat up here in the office and there it was. Magic. A nice welcome home.
The green and the birdsong, in our little oasis, is the prize.
And tomorrow morning I’ll get to take a shit on my own toilet…
I am feeling the energy of this place, nice as it was to visit, it is good to be here tonight, in the green and the cold.