Winter rains and gloom have seemed relentless. I have hunkered down, in scrutiny mode. Days of waiting, as is so common with cancer, as we wait for results of tests, scans and the next appointment. Even the garden seemed to get bored, stubbornly hibernating, with not a lot happening. Even the pigeons looked bored as they sat on the cable line in the rain.
My daily photos have continued nonetheless, seeking out a little something in nature to accompany the new world of the cancer journey.
Now though, there are signs of the next stage. It starts with the snowdrops and hellebores. Someone who lived in my house before me did some clever planting in the garden. I reap the rewards. A circle of snowdrops and a few crocuses burst through around the trunk of a weeping birch tree. They lift the spirits with their plucky determination as winter grinds on.
In parallel, I have news that my post chemo scan is clear: a huge relief to accompany the gradual shift away from the worst of winter (maybe). "Get on with life" is my motto, cherishing every fresh dawn and day. There may be a storm around the corner so stay vigilant and be prepared.
During autumn, I filled tubs with bulbs, like a squirrel preparing its winter stash. Now, if they haven't all become waterlogged, the shoots are appearing and first mini irises have emerged.
The recurring cycles of nature make me realise that it is now about a year since I received my cancer diagnosis and how surreal this has all been.
Using nature to help reflect on what is happening and to appreciate each day has been more therapeutic than I could possibly have imagined.
I've also been fascinated by the colours and textures of bark on different trees, which are like a visual echo of the way capecitabine has not been kind to my feet. Peeling and sore for many months, but with the end of treatment, there is a gradual return to a better condition. Some brilliant creams have helped too, perhaps like adding a good mulch!
Finally on this post, a photo that gives me great delight: a plant that is a true survivor in difficult times. Some fragrant stems on a daphne bush, defying the demise of the rest of the shrub. Nature at its best outside my back door... not planted by me, but I am so grateful for the joy it brings out of the gloom of winter.
