Extreme Weather Conditions of Solihull: Part 3

It really is bloody cold.

I rushed through the chilled air in no time dodging washing baskets and avoiding stubbed toes as I made it from snug bed to steaming shower in less than ten seconds.  As the almost scalding water massaged my tense neck muscles I began dreaming of a time that was…

…it was a Saturday morning, and I was stood in the garden, in a t-shirt(!), and I was comfortably warm!  Oooh how I long for those mythical days of spring and summer to return.  But not yet, I am resigned to winter, with thoughts of a sun that brings warmth to the skin fuelled only by a slipping memory.

For me it is a life of crisp fresh morning strolls to the station.  The sharp air filling your lungs and stimulating your senses provoking reflections on a life that is saturated by traces of a Being whose creation gets right inside you.  Breath in.  Breath out.

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