Quotidian life

Go wild forest school quotidian life

When I woke up this morning, it was just 6°C in the horsebox. It seems that I have yet to master keeping the burner going overnight and I suspect that this is mainly down to my habit of being frequently distracted by more interesting things and an inability to be fully engaged in the mundane. 

However, this wasn't what woke me up. I have more than enough blankets to keep me snuggly. In that shady time of the morning somewhere between sleep and waking, the drumming of a great spotted woodpecker reached me from high in the oak trees overhead. The thinness of the roof above my bed that leads to those chilly mornings, and the proximity of the ceiling to my head (my bed is raised above the cab of the truck), means that I am able to hear sounds that wouldn't be audible if I inhabited a space enclosed in bricks and mortar.

Descending to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, I have to pause briefly to remove pieces of half-eaten mouse that I inadvertently stepped on in my bare feet. The cat has begun supplementing his diet with rodents, but he doesn't appear to be keen on liver. At least he's bothering to eat most of them now. I don't fancy having to chase a vole around the horsebox. Too many hiding spaces. Nor do I want a repeat of the live shrew in my dressing gown. While I was wearing it. Or the one that jumped into my hair and used it as an escape route into my bra... Then I'm back under the covers listening to a bird that never fails to remind me of twanging wooden rulers against a school desk.

Plenty of people would label lying in bed listening to birds while most people are on their way to work as lazy. I'm the first to admit that I'm not really a 'morning person' but one thing I am definitely not is lazy. I am generally a 'doer'. I know what I want to do, I generally know how I'm going to do it and I'm away. Plenty of doing and not much being. It's the quieter moments, when I'm just being, that allow me to reflect on life, formulating my thoughts for the day and thinking about the successes and failures that have led me to this particular point.

Often, that's when inspiration hits. It's very easy, being self employed, to find yourself working away at 11 o'clock on a Sunday night, working through the 'to do' list. Without time to be we can get caught up in the daily process of doing and miss what has been staring us in the face all along. Newton's contemplation under an apple tree led him to form his theory of gravitation and Archimedes' eureka moment was the result of stepping into a lovely warm bath. I wonder if he'd lined up a glass of wine and a good book too?

As I write, the burner is going and the horsebox is a now super cosy nest. The sunshine is pouring through the windows and the occasional showers make me think that there is probably a rainbow nearby. I may venture out to look for it in a bit. You never know, it may just provide the inspiration I don't even know I'm looking for.