It was last year, 2021. I was back in Bristol, England. My dad was unwell, nearing the end of his life. I went to sit on The Downs, and area of public open space of 400 acres that looks out over the Avon Gorge. Wide open spaces, woodland, trees and bushes. I was blessed to grow up around The Downs. I’m at home when I am up there.

This time I went up there not to just get some air, but to take a break, to fluff the feathers after time spent indoors. I didn’t walk far. After a short distance I sat down. Nowhere in particular, I just sat. People were out walking dogs, jogging, playing games, picnicking. I just sat and looked at what was beneath me. Sometimes I get comfort from looking at the details, the small things, that which is beneath our feet and goes unnoticed. I looked into the grass, watched the ants, noticing the different shaped leaves down at this level, the small spiders.

Paradoxically maybe, this smaller, contracted world cleared my mind, opened my mind, exposing me to a world that I don’t spend time in.

With evening approaching, I headed for home.