The melancholy of departure

So, all good things come to an end. During a tempestuous storm on 7th December the decision was made. We were going back to London. It was an intense last two weeks of heated discussions, tears, visions (most notably a falling Eagle struck by lightning) and dreams. We went round saying our goodbyes, starting with the lovely Winter family. It was hard to do after 4 wondrous months but this was it. I will miss the stream, the wind in the trees, the shadows, the birds, the insects, the light, the big landscape, then sunsets, and all the other memories of fresh outdoorsy life. Mas nao pod ser.

Violet's teachers wept when we told them we were leaving and only then did we realise what a bond they had ll formed with Violet, kids included. We all cried loads, especially when after taking us out for a leaving meal they showed us a powerpoint of all Violet's moments since starting! Gulp!
The trip back up through Portugal and Spain was smooth until we needed petrol at midnight 100km from Santander with all the petrol stations shut and it had started to snow! Fortunately we found a nearby hotel in a small skiing town to stop for the night.

After stopping for a few days at my folks, we were lucky enough to move into a flat on Crossfields estate in Deptford. The flat is bijou but clean and tidy with less stuff in than we normally need so it will be 4 months of a more streamlined existence unti we move back into our house in April.

Yesterday I spoke to Floresdocabo and have now booked the exhibition in Sintra for mid-April. Bring it on.

102: Tues 7th December

The big bird falls slowly;

Lightning pauses,

the bell in my head tolls.