Fields of gold

After getting 'from your blog it seems that you don't like England very much' comments from a couple of people I feel obliged to write something positive. Luckily one thing has come to mind. I will write others as they become apparent.

As the winter solstice approaches, the sun struggles up about nine and creeps 90 degrees around the horizon before going down in the mid-afternoon. It helps if you can forget what real sunshine is like and enjoy the day as a six hour sunset/sunrise. Unfortunately, clouds or buildings (they don't have to be high) usually keep the sun out of view.

On the train to Birmingham on Saturday I had a moment. It reminded me of the first time I looked up at the mountains behind our village in Lantau Island and realised that they were incredibly beautiful. It had taken me months to appreciate nature that wasn't Australian.

I looked up from 'Middlemarch' (almost finished it again) and saw that the sun was shining through a small sliver of a gap in the cloud. The sky above was a dark grey-blue. Fields and trees were glowing golden in the sun. I put the book down and put Missy Higgins in my discman. I only wished it was an Indian train where I could hang out the door. Then I remembered the temperature.