I close my eyes and a smile lights my face. Light lights my face and warms my skin.
This is bliss.
A blackbird is singing, the air is full of chirp and twitter, I can hear the burn nearby gurgling happily towards the sea that sends a warm salty smell from the bay. After so many cold and bleak winter days this moment feels like the first touch of spring, right at the end of January far up North in Kishorn (Ross & Cromarty). The massive Munros of Torridon loom white and severe over the beauty of the old Kishorn burial ground.
Should I feel guilty?
I roam among memories alive to other people. The first snowdrops greet the first sun of the year.
They know no guilt for ceasing the day. Why should I!