My simple answer is in everything I can. This morning, I went to feed the local foxes. I've gotten to know them pretty well now (though an 8th materialised this morning much to the discontent of the usual 7). Tremendous joy in watching them, at really close quarters as they had their deconstructed bacon sandwich with a side of parmesan rind! The sun was beginning to rise, the underside of dappled clouds pinkening. The moon still bright and high in the sky peeping through a break in the cloud. The crispness of a cold morning nipping at my fingers as the darkness ebbed away and the dark tree silhouettes emerging against the morning sky, denuded of their leaves. A smile from a woman walking her dog that she purposefully kept on its lead as she passed the foxes, that timidly ducked into the brambles and long grasses for a little cover. A cheeky wren trying to fend off the foxes for a crumb or two. Then a walk back home, hardly a soul around at 7am, looking at the fronts of victorian terraces, the doors, the period mouldings above and around their front entrance. A single glove left on a wall hoping its former wearer recalls where they dropped it. Roses clinging on, flowering as late as they dare, while a gust of wind blows the streets rowan trees gently causing a cascade of dried leaves creating a passing shower, though not of rain. There are worse ways of starting the day. But for me, an enjoyable peaceful way for sure.
The Wife and family, music & gigs, walks, holidays, reading, baths, the Gym, football, watching TV and improving myself.
A pint of John Smiths in town,oh and coming out of the dentist this morning with an infection and still having the tooth in my mouth.
Same here, I think he might even be my favourite solo artist of all time. Nobody does the whole melancholy thing better than Elliott, he really was quite a genius songwriter.