One of those random days where none of the bits matched any of the other bits.
We started with reindeer of course, striding away across the snow. Not feeling like doing any striding myself, I ripped back some knitting. Do you know how difficult it is to unravel wool which is both hairy and decorated with sequins? Not so much ripping as delicately untangling each row and removing the snags one by one to avoid spoiling the yarn.
The reindeer were having a little rest. Some of them were asleep. The ones that were asleep chewed slowly. The ones that were awake chewed less slowly.
I cut the grass. I promised myself I wouldn’t complain about cutting the grass. Look: this is me not complaining about cutting the grass. I decided the time for curlicues was past, and mowed straight over the violets. Most of them were finished anyway, and now they all are.
Checking in on the reindeer: they were stepping steadily in the chilly sunshine. A few paused to suck and gnaw at exiguous strands of lichen glued flat to black rocks. I meditated on stripes. Tricky things, stripes.
Episodes of social engagement followed. The sea was blue and sparkly, the hills pale green over the pale chalk, but I couldn’t enjoy – bank holiday weekend, so all the ordeal of homicidal motorbike riders and suicidal cyclists and lost tourists looking at the view instead of the road. Bad combination.
Home again, I made sure the herd was all right. Their humans were amusing themselves by drawing giant patterns in reindeer, right across the valley floor – by laying a trail of what looks like pony nuts, which the reindeer rush into lines to feed upon.
Watering plants next. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, at last, and the timing is rubbish as usual, with hundreds of people in tents, poor loves, and an early garden show kicking off.
Back with the reindeer. I’ve turned the sound off. It’s getting a bit late in Norway and the screen caption says it’s -12°C. The current shot: A reluctant northern night is gathering. A small snowmobile van thing is shown slowly approaching the camera position over a wide field of snow. It passes the camera position. The camera pans to keep it in view. The van thing progresses across the snow. The camera centres on its little flat square doors. It goes further away over the snow. It goes further away some more. It goes away a bit more. The now tiny back view of the van thing disappears gradually over the brow of a snowy hill. The camera continues to look at snow on the now empty hill.
I think the reindeer and I are stuck with each other for the duration.