May is my favourite month. Blossom heavy trees, the return of warm sunshine. Colours are vivid. Time is more outside than in. After school isn’t about rushing back to the warmth of the house, it is nipping over to the park.
Mostly, I love May for it’s long days. The stretched out days of May. It’s 8pm, the shadows are long and light is still bright. The sky still blue. Long evenings seem full of possibilities and my day dreams turn to summer.
I imagine warm walks in shadowy woodland. Clear crisp rivers, jam jars and fishing nets. Beaches and camp fires.
I am imagining my perfect British summer, a utopia free from rain.
I have optimism that this summer will be different, that ahead of me is the promise of months of good weather. That I can plan and my plans will bear fruit. Because I want to camp. At the library I have been squirreling camping books amongst my fiction.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (and probably again). North Wales is has a special place in my heart. Somewhere I never tire of returning to. Now we’ve moved and I spy across the channel a Wales I’ve yet to discover and my heart skips a beat.
I must admit, that while Wales in the sunshine is perfection, in Wales it often rains. Maybe camping is for spontaneous weekends when the weather is wonderful. Camping for a week, planning to camp for a week is, in truth, European camping. Because that kind of camping is joined at the hip with sunshine…….. and beyond our means this year.
The enthusiasm for UK camping in this house is firmly pitched 2 vs.1. Mr Noo being voice of dissent.
Last year we found the perfect compromise in a yurt. I would spend a week in a yurt again. Maybe Wales, maybe better weather, so maybe Devon, maybe glamping.
Mr Noo would love a holiday on a barge, the slow pace, pretty canal side views. He loves a lock does Mr Noo. Or he would like a holiday cottage, in a little village not far from the sea. He likes comforts.
The wonderful thing about being down here, rather than up there, is all the possibilities of new places to discover, a short journey away. Places I hadn’t thought about when I wrote my. There lies a list of plans and ideas; Norfolk, France, Skomer Island.
This summer my holidays are still daydreams. We are undecided. Not sure where the summer will take us, if anywhere.
What are your plans? Inspire me. Make me envious.