January 4th into January 5th has caught me every single year since my boyfriend died from cancer in the early hours of January 5th, 1981.
He was fourteen years older than me ~ a big enough gap ~ but still you don’t expect a fit, outdoorish, non-smoking, non-drinking thirty-seven year old to be swished away in the space of a couple of months.
I needed nature to be kind to me today as I went in search of a swan as I totally associate J with swans and always feel the need to be around swans during these days that left such deep imprints on my heart.
Garrarus was soft and soothing this morning:
I sensed that there would be at least one swan waiting for me out along the coast at Annestown. The River Anne is in flood and the reflections were enchantingly deep:
And a lone swan was gliding across the waters reaching down to touch the sadness that still lingers all these years on.
True love never dies