Dismal day here in Suffolk, raining, grey, that shivery kind of cold weather that gets in your bones, nose, everywhere and makes you remember the hot days of summer. One in particular I recall, driving down to Bev’s parents’ place in Abingdon. Get there, sticky in the car but although its only a little Skoda Bev made sure it had air con when we bought it (I was, I admit, sceptical about the need), so the journey with the kids was pleasant enough.

Anyway, stepped out of the car and blam, even hotter in Oxfordshire than it was in Suffolk! Walked through to the garden, and they have a long, long lawn, I can see it now, in my mind, can feel the sun, hear the kids running along after me, happy to be released, looking for a ball to kick, a cat to play with, or just run, run up and down the lawn until one of them falls over, laughing and the other one collapses giggling on top.

What does this all mean?

Imagination, that’s what it all means, and memory, the ability of the human mind to hold everything inside, through a jumble (I use the word loosely, clearly it isn’t) of neural pathways and biochemical reactions (OK, OK, so I’ve got a degree in Biology) and recall any feeling, any picture from the mind’s eye, in an instant. Why? To give pleasure, to reinforce, to remind ourselves that the world is on the whole a wonderful place full of experiences, tastes, feelings, colour, light, degrees of heat and that everything is to be savoured and relished. Who knows, it may even be true that we come back again and again to experience it all over. If we choose to do that, it can’t be all bad, can it? So, throw some more rain down at me, I love the contrasts in life, don’t you?