
Hiding behind clouds
Ready to warm new saplings
Sunshine falls as rain

Hiding behind clouds
Ready to warm new saplings
Sunshine falls as rain
What’s a time you followed your gut and it turned out to be exactly right?

It was the end of our 37th wedding anniversary holiday when my wife and I stopped at the Pont-ar-Daf car park at the foot of Pen y Fan in the Brecon Beacons for a rest after a long drive. We decided to stretch our legs a little with a stroll up the path leading to the summit. I had reached the top with a friend a few weeks earlier but my wife had never attempted it.
After a short walk, I asked my wife, who suffered from mild asthma, if she wanted to go back to the car. She asked me what the view was like from the ridge that we could see. I said it’s worth seeing and she said, “Let’s see how we go.”
We walked on steadily, one foot in front of the other, got to the ridge and, indeed, the view was worth the effort. I asked if she was ready to go back to the car and she asked which peak was Pen y Fan. When I pointed it out she said, “Let’s see how we go.”
We kept waking and reached the summit, with its view across the whole of South and Mid Wales just as everyone else was leaving. We were left alone at the top for about ten minutes. It was probably the most emotional experience of our lives together.
We took the required photos and just sat there, alone together, tears in our eyes from the waves of emotions. Getting to the top at the end of an anniversary holiday was well worth the effort. It was a shared experience that drew us even closer together than we had ever been before. And all because of her gut feeling, “Let’s see how we go.” It was the first and only time we ascended Pen y Fan despite living in its shadow for over 40 years together.
The following year, there was upheaval in the family. But that shared experience had given us the strength to keep going and just “see how we go,” one foot in front of the other, in the face of trials.
I rarely directly share personal experiences, but this one has kept me going despite everything that life has thrown at us.
Just over five years later, my wife’s asthma turned out to be lung cancer, and she passed away a few months before what would have been our 43rd anniversary. But that shared experience has kept me going, still dealing with the upheaval in the family, still putting one foot in front of the other, still telling myself, “Let’s see how we go.”

I’m a high flier
Yet I know when to descend
And I do – quickly
I apologize for the photo being somewhat grainy. I scanned it from a photo, some years ago, when scanning hardware and software were not what they are, today. I also had the problem of tracking its flight path with an entry level camera. Still, I’m happy that I managed to get this level of clarity.
There are many people who pride themselves on their high flying positions. Sadly, they don’t seem to acknowledge that at some time they are likely to have to come down, often very quickly.
Like all predatory birds, the Red Kite knows the right time to descend; and it does so with amazing speed because it knows that its life depends on it.
What a pity that people in senior positions cannot absorb that mind-set. Maybe it would save them from a lot of health problems and a lot of embarrassment.
Life is not about how high a position you can achieve, but about keeping your feet firmly planted in reality. Failure to do this could mean, not a controlled descent, but a crash landing.

Long, hot afternoon
Clouds drift on a lazy breeze
Summer blues and greens

Growing on foot path.
Flowering in summer heat.
Born to be wild thing.