You know how sometimes your mind just starts to wander. Well, mine does anyway and very often this wandering mind is triggered by the weather. Lately it has been rainy and cool and I started to think about the cold, rainy times I’ve experienced before. Every winter there’s rain and cold so why does my mind pick out certain times and places? This time my mind took me back to England (pretty normal I’d say when it comes to cold, wet weather) and a short period of time in late 1997 when we were living in Bournemouth. I’ve spent a lot of time in England but again, why did I think back specifically to that time? Is it because the mind says – hey, you enjoyed that, let’s give you another go at it? I’d like to think so.
Anyway, Bournemouth in winter. We were there for a few months and needed to work. I was lucky enough (?) to get a job in the Christmas shop at BHS, one of the department stores (ring any bells anybody?). It was hard work but it was fun. I worked with a couple of girls who lived close to us and would pick them up on the way to work. If my memory serves me correctly we had a 6.30am start. I know it was dark, cold and often wet at that time of the morning and we would be bundled up in coats, scarfs and gloves. By Christmas we had moved to Milford on Sea and I had a long (and I’m talking 90 minutes) bus trip back from work. Also by Christmas we had snow and I do love snow.
Snow. Switzerland, Scotland, England. Cornwall and the New Forest.
We spent a few Easters in Cornwall and Easter there does not appear to be conducive to good weather. Yes, we had snow one year and then there’s the year that we nearly got blown off our feet in Boscastle while battling the sleet.
And did I mention that we were staying in a caravan. But I guess I enjoyed those times ’cause the memories do keep coming back.
The New Forest under snow simply cannot be beaten for picturesqueness (I know it’s not a word, but deal with it because I like it). On our first morning in the New Forest (back in 1989), the heath across the road from the 200 year old stone cottage we were staying in was covered in bright, white snow. The ponies stood forlornly, bearing the cold and wet with considerable resilience. Having left a hot Australian summer only days earlier, the sight mesmerised us and we couldn’t wait to get out in it and build a snowman!
The winter creates an almost magical scene on the heaths and in the woodlands and, even after nearly twenty years back in Australia, I still think of that beautiful landscape that would change with every passing day.
Now, where was I? Ahh yes, wondering how and why my mind wanders the way it does. Who knows, but stay tuned, there will be more wanderings to come.