On Buttercups and Balance

Two years ago the sun was shining and buttercups rippled across the field I could see from my window. I could watch the sun rise, and set, and then rise again, throwing its magnificent morning rays over the world, through a film of atmospheric cloud. There were no buildings to start and stop the process, and watching that orb climb slowly up the horizon was a bliss I could never miss.

Hazy mornings turned into stunning afternoons, every colour highlighted and illuminated by the bright summer sun.

I was not happy then, even though I had everything I’d dreamed of growing up in an Arabian desert. I dreamed of blue skies to replace my dusty brown ones. I dreamed of vivid greens and the smell of freshly cut grass, to replace my fake grass and the dismal beige weeds that decorated the sand sparsely. I was not happy, though.

And I ate my feelings.

I am not happy now, either.

I just can’t seem to find a good balance in life.

Back then I had no car and no job and was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no neighbours and and no way of getting away unless I spent a fortune on bus fares, which I couldn’t afford because I had no job.

Now I have a job but I have to travel away from home to go to it and it is causing a raucous in my family life.

I suppose it is in the human nature to always want more and never be satisfied with what they have.

I suppose it is also a matter of finding balance. And being content, and making reasonable decisions.

Also there is an element of faith here. Maybe my faith is weak at the moment. In fact, I know it is. And that is why I feel so lost and discontent.



This was such a beautiful day. I walked for hours and hours with nothing but the silence, the wind, the sunlight, the soft swish of swaying grasses to keep me company. 

Some Dangerous Cows

I had an encounter with some cows, internet, and it was not pleasant.


Cows are domesticated, docile creatures. That is what I thought, when I decided impulsively to walk through a field of them this morning.

I had been walking for a good hour and a half, and the field was a shortcut back home. The cows were all crowded by the gate, and they all turned to stare at me when I walked through. They had yellow tags on their ears with numbers on them.

They’re only cows, silly, I thought, walking on, they’re just curious.

They gathered closer to me as I walked, following my movements.

Hang on.

I stopped.

I stared at them, stock still. The clouds were heavy in the sky. The wind hustled the grasses this way and that, sending ripples through the wavy stalks. And the cows were silent, their eyes on me. All of them. It was like the silence of an impending doom

Ain’t nobody got time for that!

I noticed the calves grazing calmly in the distance. Perhaps they were being wary.

Nevertheless, I did something really stupid, folks. I made a sudden leap towards them, thinking that perhaps if I established my dominance they might take heed and move on.

They leapt back, sure enough, but then they leapt forward, all crowding closer towards me.

I was ab-so-lutely terrified. What had I unleashed!?

“Okay cows,” said I, “off you go now. Move on. Nothing to see here”

They ignored me, and carried on staring.

So I ran. I don’t know why I ran. I wasn’t scared, I was just trying to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

I ran towards the gate and the most confident of all the cows, a large black creature with two small horns, started running alongside me. Really! Yes, really. I slowed down. The cow slowed down. She didn’t seem threatening. She didn’t seem playful either. Oh, I can’t read cows!

I got away safe and sound, though, disgruntled about having to go the long way round. But the countryside was glorious, the wind was strong, the clouds heavy and there was a wondrous light rain sprinkling my face. All was well.

I don’t know about those cows though. Perhaps if I had been less afraid, and more gentle, I would have been home sooner. But would I have been alive? Who knows.