Friday, 9 June 2006

More sleep

Last night it was nearly nine by time I got back home and yet it was still light and warm, a distinct advantage over dark and cold. It was also dry, I like dry, dry is good. Wet is ok but it gets a little tiresome after a while. A warm breeze gently stirred the overhanging leaves along the avenue of beach trees along the Ridgeway bringing with it the sweet aroma of elderflowers. The peacefulness of the gently swaying waist height corn in the field started to slow my mind that was racing from a hectic day, a few birds wheeling lazily in the sky as the last of the sun dripped red from the sky, collecting on the horizon promising another good day to come.

Not having my rucksack with me due to needing to rest my shoulder can be a little problematic, I carry it with me because it is full of things that I need. I can get by with just what I have in my pockets but it’s not that much fun although I find I can get an awful lot in my pockets. I strolled the last of the way through the woods and dug out the emergency sleeping bag, fortunately I had managed to dry it out over the weekend so sleeping in it was a much more appealing prospect than the last time I wanted to use. It had become a little musty again though, must can be quite an overpowering smell but one that it is possible to get used to after a while.

Quite recently I discovered a combination of clothes that if folded together can create a rather comfortable pillow. Jeans and a hoodie are not that combination it was, however, the only option. After about an hour or so of not being able to sleep I decided that being uncomfortable was the deciding factor and decided to do something about it. It was a warm night, about 11 degrees C, and so it should be possible to sleep in my clothes and use the sleeping bag as a pillow. This wasn’t much more comfortable as the pockets of my jeans were stuffed full of useful things and therefore were a bit lumpy to lie on but this was nothing that scooping great handfuls of flotsam and casting it about me wouldn’t cure.

It wasn’t as warm as I had thought when I woke I found that I had somehow wriggled back into the sleeping bag and was using a root from the yew tree as a non to comfortable pillow. One of the things that I had taken out of my pocket was a pen, in taking the pen out of the pocket I had also taken the lid off. I had then slept on the pen without the lid thus getting ink all over the last of my relatively clean clothes. They were also the only clothes that I had, not ideal when the first thing I had to do was to meet a photographer who was coming out to take some photos for the Observer.

1 comment:

Matthew Coombes said...

Ink on clothes that's the in thing right now, people pay lots of money for that. Or was that the sixties.