Paint

Paint appealing.

This peeling paint lies between that house and this, I walk past it most days. Only this time I notice. I won't be walking this way so often.

My fingers typed 'this peeling pain.' I wonder. I have a contemplative soul and whenever significant change unfolds I've learned to savour it, to discover the truth of all that I'm grateful for in what is passing and what is to come. I like to feel complete with endings, to begin afresh.

Experiencing the the layers of satisfaction and discontent, the things I've put up with for too long, the things I'll miss, the new joys to come.

I'll miss the ducks, but not being woken by their demands for food at first light. That one I brought upon myself. I'll miss this ever-changing view but not this one. There will be new, familiar vistas.

Be warned there are weeks of contemplation to come (I'm very thorough).

On the subject of peeling pain - there's a fantastic interview with Dennis Potter on BBC 4 at 11.00pm tonight after he knows that he will die of cancer, having suffered with psoriatic arthropathy for much of his life. In it he describes the Spring blossom outside his window as 'the blossomest blossom,' more vivid than any he can remember, enhanced by the knowledge that this is the last time he will see it come into bloom. Well worth watching if you're up late. I don't know if it's on iPlayer. I just checked it's here on iPlayer - or, rather, will be later.