Nature reminds me of my mortality.
I felt my mortality when I visited Hilly Fields in Colchester today. The blackberry bushes that ten days before was a hive of bee activity no longer displayed flowers, but rapidly ripening fruit, I ate my first wild blackberry of the year. I looked upon a pond of water that was now thick with green algae, the buttercup-like flowers had vanished, so had the water birds. In those ten days so much had changed in Hilly Fields, and a terror-struck me .
My melancholy began in Castle Park earlier in the day, the wind sent a shower of seeds and leaves to the ground. I worried, leaves falling so early? All the leaves were less vital and green on these trees, it had felt like only weeks since there had been no leaves upon the trees, the result of a winter that invaded into May. A squirrel caused me to forget my anxiety for a moment as it looked up at me hopefully for food, I gave it a crisp.
Back in Hilly Fields I found a piece of brick tile that a mole had dug up, my Roman ancestors must have littered Hilly Fields with kilns, the fragments are everywhere. Movement in the grass, betrayed a small frog, so tiny, at the beginning of its life. Tile and frog, a reminder of the passing of time, the source of my anxiety. The changes in Hilly Fields even in this short time of ten days was a reminder that the wheel was turning, I don’t think I could face another winter.
I sat upon a hill watching the sun go down. The flying bugs reassured me as they hovered above the trees near me in their mating dance, an act they have been doing for several weeks, a small act of stability I needed in a changing world. The sun vanished, it grew chill and darker. I walked home, and the wheel continued to turn.