I love words. There are so many beautiful words in the world, which help us capture our meanings just so.
But I don’t know the word to capture right now for you. A rainy Wednesday afternoon. The back door open so the rain scented breeze blows in. Radio 4 can just be heard above the bubbling of the dinner on the hob.
Our Victorian cottage has a door to the staircase. The door is open, and I am nestled at the bottom with a cup of tea I belatedly realise I haven’t removed the teabag from.
The scent of chicken stew is carried on the breeze. It is the simplest of dinners, soothing in the making and soothing in the eating, nourishing and sustaining. Later, it will be studded with herb dumplings which will be left to swell into fluffy little clouds.
So the word I need is for a cosy rainy afternoon in May, one where you need a litte comforting, a little bolstering. As many words as there are, there just aren’t enough.
Later, there will be crochet. Soothing ripples up and down on my Moorland blanket. I have moved into the living room now. The cars drive by outside and the rain is slick on their tyres.
Later still, there will be a feather pillow and Barbara Pym and a candle in the dark.
Wherever you are, I hope your Wednesday holds comfort and if not joy, then peace.