Between Good Friday and Easter Sunday was a quiet time. The guy they were afraid of had died and, much to everyone’s surprise, he had died with his head looking towards the heavens asking God to forgive his murderers. Then there had been a meeting of dark clouds, followed by rain. The rain fallen as if to from the times of Noah and the people made for their homes. The guy on the cross was taken down and some of his old friends were allowed to take him to the place that would become his for eternity. All good things must come to an end.
Today finds me sitting in the same type of hiatus. The sun has turned up and is throwing down its rays upon a nation which had the visit of death yesterday.
I did a lawn-cutting this morning. The grass had escaped my intentions during the course of the week, but now was its time. I have an old petrol mower and it takes a bit of coaxing to kick itself into life. Once going, it’s a dream. This morning’s coaxing was some way less lengthy than the re-animation of the guy from the cross. Finally, after three weeks of rest the lawnmower caught and spluttered then caught again. This time it was running for sure and I kept it going before evenually trusting its new life.
I love cutting grass. I am addicted to the smell of freshly-cut grass whilst also being drawn in by the immediate rewards of seeing order reinstated. I have a mixture of mowing methodologies – I cut in straight lines to begin with, going back and forth, then its the round the world cut which takes me to all four corners of our green space. When it’s all done, I stand back and admire. In the face of a pandemic, IT, I cut grass.
That’s not the full truth. I also cycle.
The last few weeks has seen me change another routine. Winter is a bad time for my fitness as I eat and drink too much whilst doing very little exercise. My problem is that I don’t like the cold, or the rain. So instead, I spend my time dreaming of the return of Spring and my return to getting fit again. One proven way for me and my bike is to take a short quick circuit of some twenty miles and race against the clock and previous times I have achieved. All thes times tend to have been accomplished in late spring, in the summer and those final months before the dread of Winter returns. In the past, the circuit has built me up quickly. Now I am trying out longer rides, taking routes that I have never done before whilst going out of my way to ‘go out of my way’.
I am writing this just before I set off and I’m thinking about those roads less travelled.
Sometimes, not knowing where life can take you can be a bonus. You get off the straight and narrow. You stop doing those things that have become heavy expectations or weighty routines. From falling off the roundabout of mundane living, it is possible to start afresh.
Oh, and that guy from the cross is said to have ignored the conventions of life and death. Fresh roads?