January brings a new phase, now post-chemo, some welcome healing as side-effects from Capecitabine slowly ease, but it's now a matter of being monitored and self-awareness of my own body. It's a gradual detachment from the wonderful close support net of the oncology unit, although I know the Macmillan team are always there. A new phase therefore comes with mixed feelings: some joy at the end of chemo, but also a wariness of now having to keep watch.
In the garden, I'm mirroring this change, with the joy of a little extra daylight each day bringing the sightings of new shoots fighting through the snow and the frost, determined to burst out. I watch the patches where I know they will be, resilient and ready. The cluster of frosty leaves seem to be huddling together for protection and warmth. The snow berries shine in the sun and the first snowdrops are up and ready to open.
The garden is under close surveillance for positive signs that herald the changing season. Winter has still brought its beauty with a dusting of snow and heavy frosts, then the rain has delivered soakings and grey skies. Blue skies still dazzle with their intensity. The rooks fly over to roost at dusk, always stunning to watch, as is the early moon, still shining in the dawn sunrise. Surveillance makes me look closely but also take a wider view, both in the garden and in regard to this new phase for myself.
