Cloudlands

Have you ever  had that feeling of absolute calm? There's a place I sometimes find myself; It's not a dark cave or an empty desert. It's just a wide open space where sky is infinite and the clouds are floating mountains that seem almost touchable. Sometimes I find myself lost in this chaos of trivial worries and obsession with consuming. Things, all of these things; gadgets, ornaments, clothes & accessories for life, all coming with a promise to improve your existence somehow. It never works though, does it? Nothing fills that void. 

I never started really feeling that void until I moved away from home. Although I always danced with a general sort of social anxiety as a young person, life somehow felt substantial &  enriched because even though my family never had any money, I had a bicycle and an endless map of countryside, coast path and seaside to explore. Money didn't matter. Never once did I ever feel without.

Occasionally I feel an emptiness being far from it all. I'm not sure if it's homesickness, my odd soul or my deep rooted belief that we came from nature and so naturally crave it. The outdoors has healing powers and luckily as I am to live in a beautiful city nestled in a valley of Somerset countryside, it's easy to confine myself to the route between Uni and my loft. That's when I start to notice something's missing, that I'm denying my soul something. George however, despite being a country boy born and raised craves the towering city buildings and marvels at the days that never end, the bright lights and roaring traffic. He finds highs in the energy, crowds and hustle and bustle and resents the stillness and emptiness of rural Cornwall. It always puzzled me that humans could be so content in concrete hutches but I can't deny that there's an intoxicating energy to cities. However, when George began feeling the low of post-flu recovery, January blues mingled with a feeling of helplessness even he couldn't deny that the healing properties of the wind and sea were exactly what he was in need of. 

On a whim, we embarked on the hour journey to the sea. Racing the last moments of sun before it became night just so that we may glimpse the ocean for a while and breath in the salty air. To do things on a whim is my most favourite way of doing things, because you have no expectations or plans. Therefore everything will be 'in the moment', you can just exist. 

Our nearest beach is possibly Berrow, near Brean and Burnham-on-Sea. It's completely different from any of the beaches we grew up around but it's an enormous wide expanse of freedom. One of my favourite things about the winter season are the incredible skies, the perfect greys, blues and indigo's. There's a magic to the winter sky that sometimes in the hot balmy summer time,makes me a little nostalgic for them.

The sky this evening was as marvelous as any winter evening, I felt as though I was in that place that I go to when it becomes all too much and I space out. That dreamlike world where the colours are soothing and the only sounds are those of sea birds and the roaring wind. 

I loved how the sand was so wet, it reflected the sky and world above. Clouds fascinate me and my favourite dreams are the ones where I'm falling through the cirrus and nimbus. Clouds make great weather.

 The wind was up and there was an icy frost to the air, it woke every nerve and woke every part of our sleepy selves. Walking on the wet mirror of sand was the closest thing I've ever felt to walking on the sky.

It was a therapeutic evening. We drove to Weston Super Mare afterwards and saw Wales lit up over the bay. There pier illuminated the promenade and reflected off the water and the lights of the town twinkled like stars. Then, giddy and satisfied from the high of the open air, we drove to Bristol and strolled through the vibrant city filled with delicious food smells wafting from the restaurants and cheers and laughter from the revelers in the streets. We finished up at Five Guys burger bar and when we finally got back to Bath after getting spectacularly lost and ending up on the M4. We slept soundly last night and it was the second night in a row that I beat the insomnia. On Thursday, Jess and I enjoyed a flurry of snow on the way to the pool and although it didn't settle, it was magical and exciting as the dusty flakes blew all around us. Experiencing snow in Bath is like existing in the pages of an old novel with cobbled streets and rickety buildings. The kind that Dickens might have written. Just when I was finally getting the hang of making the most of January, I realised that tomorrow it will be the first day of February. It came so suddenly, I wasn't expecting it.
At the moment, life is filled with being as warm and cosy as possible. I made a den in my bedroom, filled up on my favourite naughty num nums and threw myself into reading as many new things as possible. My current favourite are plays. I've just finished Fox Finder and Jerusalem and they were both filled with tension, humour and intrigue. This post feels a little quieter than usual. The photo's feel bare and quiet. But that is a part of life just the same, the quiet and bare moments. Moments I cherish just the same. It's not always vibrant adventures, sometimes we have quiet ones too. It's just as important to remember those.
Evening drives. Winter sunsets. Cities at Night. Spectacular clouds. Snow Flurries. Rickety Villages. Thankyou January. You've been peaceful.