Such a title seems a little ironic when last week I don’t think my feet really touched the ground. I swear whenever I find my love for blogging revived and I decide with renewed vigour, to do it more regularly, something gets in the way. I want to get and about with my camera, to be making memories, documenting life, narrating my story and endeavouring to somehow make sense of it all. Yet poor wifi connections, terrible weather conditions and other commitments get in the way. On this occasion distraction came in the form of several birthdays, a reunion, a wedding and a trip up-country that all landed within the space of a week. This was alongside work and planning my own wedding, of course.
Whenever I am busy I want nothing more than to slow down. I don’t like to see my diary fill up. I want the space and freedom to decide for myself what happens on those days. I want time available to be impulsive and do things spur-of-the-moment. I want time available to simply recharge and allow my brain to process the events of the day. I want time available to simply to check I remembered everything. Have I charged my phone? Do I need to pick up groceries? Oh my gosh what date is Father’s Day? In fact what is the date today?
I want to be unhurried and deliberate. I want days that are spent meaningfully, that are more than just a non-stop-rush till my head hits the pillow. And yet thankfully, within these busy seasons there are always moments when time stops. Even if only because I stop to take stock and recognise them…
Lying back on an old wooden jetty, toes in the Helford. Full of peppermint tea, reunited with friends and praying (somehow!) for more summer days just like this.
Birthday celebrations that had us walking through fields and gathered round tables. Putting M&Ms in our ice cream sundaes and turning the vanilla blue.
Laughing late into the evening, cosy and twinkling; swirling a spicy cocktail in my hand. All the while we talk big life changes and attempt to convince Matt to watch Game of Thrones.
Long car journeys, rolling through the Somerset flats, filled with singing and laughing and snacking and speculation as to which service station we should make our “regular”.
Sitting beneath huge stone arches as an old friend ties the knot. And holding back tears as it settles and we slow dance.
Tucking into a Sunday roast and rhubarb crumble in the garden with family. Feeling the heat of the sun and familiar warmth of my family home and past summers I knew growing up.
Swing dancing under string bulbs; clapping hands and stomping feet. Before cooling ourselves with the fresh night air and ice cream served out of a painted caravan. A canopy of stars lighting our night.
Driving home through the darkness – faces lit only by the Sat Nav – as we talk of our own wedding and all that is to come.
Birthdays, weddings, moving house; reunions with new friend I’ve barely known for 10 months and old friends I’ve known for over a decade. All these things feel like the beginnings and endings of chapters. From what was, to what will be.
Right now we’re 4 months away from our own wedding and I think it’s easy to get caught up in that way of seeing things. That everything right now is temporary and provisional and leading up to the next big thing; to what will be. On the cusp on the following chapter. In the (not so) linear story that is our lives, we see these planning, working-towards, leading-up-to times as short-term and kind of insignificant. Something big and important is coming. So it’s easy to push smaller less noteworthy things aside, to push on to what’s coming.
But more than ever, I think now is the time to stop and take stock. To savour the scene and take those mind’s-eye-photographs. It’s so easy to stumble through the day without so much as a look upwards. When was the last time I took stock of the sky?
That said, I think it’s highly likely my wedding day will be more noteworthy to me than say tomorrow or the day after. And yes I probably will get my Pinterest-on and have some intense-making-times, that’re equally full of stressful glue-gun burns and strokes of (what feels like) creative genius. However what I’m trying to get at is that I’m choosing not to see this time as provisional or without note or simply as the ending of a chapter. These months now are not a means to an end. These in-between days hold the potential to be just as weighty, memorable and beautiful as those “big days”.
So I’m trying to carve out time. Even if they’re simply stock-taking moments of recognition, that these days, these sweet slowly-growing-in-heat summer days, are just as beautiful. Just as filled with wonder and significance and memories to be held on to. Together we’re trying to carve out time to spend together where we don’t talk wedding-biz and we celebrate our relationship for all it is right now, regardless of what will be.
These photographs were taken at the Shipwrights Arms and around Helford Village – which also happens to be some of my favourite spots in Cornwall. If you ever find yourself in this part of the country I’d really recommend popping by, even if it’s just for a pot of tea and a quick peruse of the pontoon.