This morning I find myself sitting on a folding chair in the top meadow not long after sunrise. I smiled a little half-smile a minute ago remembering that I never was much of a ‘morning person’. I blame the chickens and an often overwhelming need to be in this early morning peace on my way back to the house. Sometimes I can’t fight it and if I’m not asleep on my feet, I go in for a cup of tea and come straight back out. The thought always enters my mind each time I check for an early egg. I’m being trained by a natural master and am always rewarded when I give into it. I almost wish I’d slept out here in this perfect temperature as the upstairs is so hot this weekend. I think it would be an idea to set up a bell tent here and use it day and night throughout the summer. I never knew I’d end up living somewhere that is quite literally like being on holiday when life and weather allows. The switch can be switched at any moment into that mode but there are of course other modes here that are much more dutiful. This weekend just happens to have an easier feel because I’ve reached a point in my domestic jobs that enables me to sit and relax a little more. I know the sitting room is a mess, but at least it’s only the childrens’ toys and games that they’ll go back to when they get up. Ah well, such is life! I do love that sentiment. It’s from one of their books I often read called “The Lighthouse Keeper’s Lunch”. Seagulls keep attacking his lunch on its way to him down the zip wire, but eventually the man and his wife work out how to fool them with mustard sandwiches. This is what happens when sitting out here! My mind flows from one thing to another and then stops to listen to sounds that snap me back to the present moment. This spot. We have cut a series of magic paths that go this way and that in the meadow where I am. I’ve put this chair interestingly in a junction where five of them meet. One goes off to the pig sheds, one to the vegetable garden, one to the chickens, one to the meadow gate and one to the house past the trampoline and lawn. Having paths is good fun, even for grown-ups. We’ve cut it like this a few times so the grass is lawn quality for running around on. Imagine a maze in a corn field but instead of corn, our paths are lined with very tall grasses, docks, long buttercups, a fruit tree or two and a few lucky nettles. My cat who has been curled up in a little ball along the edge of the path to the pig sheds this whole time has just heard something rustling and is standing alert, waiting for his moment. If I’d gone back to bed like I did yesterday, I’d be missing so much. It will be far too hot to sit here in about an hour or so. I wonder while I’m sitting here if my presence is altering the things that are happening around me, or if the same things would be going on without me involved. I think some of the things may be the same and I observe them closely. A bee on a flower may not be aware of me and carries on nearby. The gentle movement of leaves on trees I am watching. The way the sunlight highlights grasses at a lower angle this early in the day. The hen clucking in the henhouse while she lays her egg. This is a much explored scientific concept. To what degree am I changing my environment simply by being in it? I know as I sit here that I am indeed causing change, but I get the sense that I am welcome to be a part of it. I think I’ve found a new favourite sitting spot. I’ll go get another cup of tea.