charles barrow's writing

One of the few silver linings of this lockdown malarky is that the pace of life has slowed down. The frenetic pace of life that we were expected to maintain, which was quite frankly exhausting, is something that I don't miss at all. Now I can move around the house and garden at my own pace. I can study the flower borders to see what's happening down there at ground level. I can study the pots in the greenhouse, where I have sown chilli, tomato, courgette, squash, basil and coriander seeds. I can check them at hourly intervals. I am learning the art of patience. I can sit on the garden bench and watch, and listen to, the song birds squabble at the feeders. I can study the buds on the apple and almond trees, and make note, every day, as more of those buds burst open, and the trees are gradually covered in pastel pink blossoms. I can also take the time, with my small fishing net, to catch and release all the flying insects that trap themselves inside the conservatory, I've got

As I type this, 99 year old Captain Tom Moore has completed 100 laps of his garden, ahead of his 100 th  birthday, and raised over £18 million for NHS charities. It’s an astounding achievement, and you’d have to have a heart of stone not to be moved by his determination, and the way people worldwide have come together and rallied behind him. There are, and will be, many more positive stories to come out of the strange times we find ourselves living in, and they are being reported daily across the news feeds, and we need to hear them; we need cheery news, and news that we can cheer. And I hope to write posts of a more positive bent, than I’m about to, in the coming weeks because my daily reality is not all gloom and doom, but today I’m going to focus on loss, because loss is also a part of my day too. We’ve all lost a lot of things recently. Intimacy is the first thing that springs to mind. I can’t remember the last time I gave someone a hug. It was such a commonplace part of g