A descriptive piece about my walk home from work…
As I turn and leave, I pull up the collar of my mac, closing the gap between coat and scarf, and I begin my walk home from work. I may find my evening job tedious, thankless and lonely but I adore the walk home.
In summer, I get to watch the sun setting behind the houses, creating a vast pink blue sky, accenting the trees with a gorgeous glow; but now it is winter, I walk towards home listening to the delicious crunch of frozen blades of grass underfoot, watching them sparkle under the light of the moon. Occasionally, in the distance, I hear the sounds of 30 grown men thudding into the frozen mud at the local rugby club, very glad that I am not playing sport of any kind in the ice cold air. Most of the time though it is fairly silent, just the sound of my own breath and my footsteps for company. And it is here that peace and contentment wash over me. Even though the coldness is harsh, I feel my spirit resuscitate and a warm glow radiating out of me; appreciating the simple things that make life seem so much more beautiful and easier.
Sometimes I will stop, away from the fluorescent glow of streetlights, and look up at the stars, in awe of the existence I live in, the intricacies of this universe.
By just walking home, I feel revitalised and have refreshed my perspective on life in the broader scheme of things. The strong dislike for my job just melts away for another day.