I step out into the cool morning air and pull the door closed gently behind me. I walk down the path and zip up my coat before reaching the gate.
Sunday morning in the city: quiet, damp, peaceful.
There is a still in the air that provides a perfect backdrop to my footsteps on the ground.
My neighbours aren’t up yet. It feels as if the flying Parakeets and I are the only ones awake.
I snake my way up towards the common and into the woods. The familiar smell of rich earth and bark hits me, instantly filling my lungs. The ground is soft underfoot.
I feel every single muscle in my body relax and release for the first time in ages.
And on I walk, hands in pockets, my mind a million miles away.
Past the tall Oak and just before the tangled blackberry bush, I am lost in my thoughts. I wonder about where this year has gone. I wonder about my summer of love.
And I wonder if letting go will ever get any easier for this amplified heart.
The rain that fell in the early hours of the morning glisten on the branches overhead.
And I’m suddenly struck by how beautiful everything looks. In amongst the weathered trees and fallen leaves, I dare to hope once more.