Rumour has it...
I'm learning to become okay with this view.
The past few weeks my inbox has been filled "hope you're keeping well - I've heard you're moving back" and "Rumour has it..." and the slightly more leading "so... what's new with you?"
Life's a funny thing. My Dad put it best, as an intrepid traveller and satiated with a life living in all corners of the world, he said you know you've made a change if you're missed. That's stuck with me through many contracts, new ventures, offices and companies and I've endeavoured to make a positive change wherever I've been. Sometimes it's simply been a case of smiling and taking a few extra minutes to help out a teammate.
Well, the rumours are true. We're heading south.
We've also put an offer in on a little victorian terrace in a small Oxfordshire village. It's nestled between Bledlow Ridge in the Chilterns and long rolling fields. There are flocks of Red Kites who live in the trees on the outskirts of the village.
This time, eleven circled overhead, all calling to one another with loud piercing screeches.
They soared, circled and appeared to carefully watch the dogs.
... who were clearly aware of these large feathered creatures. They're used to pigeons around the city centre of Birmingham, but these fellas are a whole lot bigger.
Nevertheless they stayed close as we walked.
The rolling fields are a stones throw, and each time we've visited the house to sort out measurements etc, we've taken Apollo and Aura out along the farmers tracks.
... and taken every opportunity to look back at the house, spy it from a different view.
As we amble, we chat about the commutes we'll face, the work needed on the house. There's a whole lot ahead. The key focus right now, as we wait in anticipation to complete on the house buy, is planning. The lists are extensive and the plan is to get as much done or scheduled in advance.
But, plans are all well and good, but sometimes...
...you gotta' take time to smell the flowers.
Time to defrag and create mental headspace.
As we walked, I gathered wildflowers...
... just as I did as an African child visiting family in the English countryside all those decades ago.
Hands full with posies, we meandered in the low evening sun, back towards the car. Ready to make the journey northwards back home. Back to pack up our lives, as we're so used to doing, back to sketch out floor plans and think about what will fit.