A Slow Vacation

 

To be frank, moving as we have done is a little like finding ourselves on an extended self catering holiday. Freed from the shackles of being surrounded by onerous maintenance, projects and objects, there's so much more time to devote to the business of retirement itself. 

Ten miles east from our permanent home, we are ten miles closer to the sea. Consequently we have already passed two very enjoyable days at the coast in recent weeks. 



The first coincided with a visit from the fanily including Grandotty, as well as what was probably the warmest day we've experienced so far this year. The eldest grabbed his surfboard and the rest of us picnicked on the beach as Grandotty was introduced to the pleasures of sand and waves. Inevitably, the sand found its way into her mouth, whilst she thought the waves a little daunting. Experiencing the familiar sound, smell and scenery of the shore through the reactions of a youngster, however, is on par with discovering them yourself for the first time. With age must come nostalgia, for the memories of childhood came flooding back.

 

Last Sunday, Mister E and I, dodged showers to the North and South by venturing to North Gare and the mouth of the Tees. Sand dunes reclaimed from the impact of heavy industry are now a flourishing haven for wildlife and a local botanist talked animatedly to us about the purple milk vetch that was flowering around us, now an endangered species in Britain and confined very much to areas on the East coast. Even the impact of the remaining chimneys from the once flourishing chemical industry not to mention the large block that is the nuclear power plant, could not detract from the vast skies and expanse of nature.

The natural world that is so important to human well-being is regularly ignored, much  to our detriment. Retirement and that change in the pace of life it allows us, enables us to embrace and enjoy it. Little wonder that I now feel I am on some kind of vacation.


Today, however, was a contrasting excursion when we made use of the local station to hop on a train to York. Exercise ( I've totalled 20,000 steps walking the historic streets) and the nurturing of our innate sense of the creative as we visited the Art Gallery which is hosting an exhibition based around the loan of Monet's The Water Lily Pond (an 1899 version) from the National Gallery. The exhibition marks the 200th anniversary of the National Gallery and to celebrate the occasion it has loaned out various renowned paintings to its partners with the aim that as many people in the country as possible are within 100 miles of a "national treasure."

As you can imagine I have once again returned "home" sated and not simply from the meal we treated ourselves to before leaving,

 

Comments

Treaders said…
There's actually a lot to be said for "minimalism" in a sense. When I was 24 I backpacked around Australia for six months and you soon learn what is absolutely essential as opposed to what you think you might like - especially if you have to carry it on your back. Ditto when we had our camper for about 15 years. While the comforts of home are indeed nice, as you say, there is always that invisible to-do list, isn't there! I'm glad you're making the most of your "holiday"!
Caree Risover said…
Making the most but not yet worrying that I might not want to come back!

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