At the cottage between the forest and the sea, it's a cold night. I untangle myself reluctantly from my nest of warm blankets to go outside and pee.
In the dark night, all the stars are out. The moon is painting a silvery streak across the bay with a bright light that forms sharp shadows around me. The whooping swans are shouting at each other somewhere further down the coast and the echoes bounce back from the forest line. I shiver with cold in flannel pyjamas and thick sweater but it's hard to tear myself away from all this beauty.
At the cottage between the forest and the sea, the cold night melts into a balmy day with only a hint of crispness. I sit outside with my laptop and stare at the quiet sea. The neighbour comes over to share a catch of perch, not five minutes out of the water, and my mother fries the fish in plenty of butter. There is golden sunshine and fresh raspberries and mugs of steaming coffee.
The day softens into a long sunset and a chilly evening. I haul wood from the shed to take me through another icy night and can hardly believe how lucky I am to have an evening of reading by the fire.
I know there are dark days ahead but they can't defeat me when there are days like these even further ahead.
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