When I was told there would be 8 cycles of chemo ahead, each cycle of Capecitabine taking 3 weeks, like all of you reading this, your mind goes into “counting” mode, counting down, striking off the days, working out that magical End Date, realising it’ll be a different year when the cycles end … My life has become rather number-obsessed.
As a parallel process I decided to offset the number-counting with capturing the changing nature of my garden during this period. It began in July/August when the it was hot and the ground and grass parched. The garden looked quite unhappy, as did I. I decided to take a daily photo of the garden, sometimes a wide shot, sometimes something tiny and close up. A bee on the lavender. A blackbird poking the hard earth in search of a worm. From the parched state of the brown lawn, suddenly a deluge and everything looked up and felt fresh. A bit like that week off chemo tablets - there is a rosy time ahead.
Going out into the garden each day, at different times, in search of today’s shot and best angle has helped me to focus on the simple joys of nature and life in all its forms. Sometimes it’s a struggle, other times it’s abundant and a delight. Surprises too: I shriek as a little frog jumps out from the shelter of the geraniums, and I swear as I discover a massive blister on the underside of a toe! From the days of arid summer. I’ve charted mellow days of September, with a lusher feel. The rooks have begun to go to roost as the evenings draw in. I pull the rug around me to cocoon myself in its warmth.
My photos this week bring the vibrant colour of an autumn leaf, a pile of acorns or sweet chestnuts littering the garden boundary, the trees in gradual change of autumn splendour before I’ll be photographing the lawn strewn with fallen leaves. Each change marks more days counted down, for me, and for each season. For now, it’s a welcome week’s break from tablets, whilst outside a storm is brewing.
The photo here is from a hot day, with the bees busy buzzing in the lavender.
