Brenda's Blog: 2. Into the icy wastelands...

This is what happened one night when I was tempted to venture into the icy wastelands... of our own back garden. About half past one in the morning, I was tidying the house and was all ready to go up to bed. I realised there was still a bag of bio-recyclables (peelings, teabags, etc) to take down to the compost maker, which was situated right at the bottom of our 120 foot rear garden. But it was late January and a bitterly cold night and there was a couple of days of snow lying on the ground. I looked out of the conservatory doors at the icy landscape and was suddenly taken with the urge to see if I could walk down to the bottom of the garden and back in such a hostile environment without any clothing. I slipped off my dressing gown and pulled on a pair of wellies. I opened the patio door and walked slowly and carefully down the garden in the dark carrying the bag, crunching my way through the frost-hardened snow. I thought it would be bitterly cold, but I was amazed to discover that I felt almost no cold at all. I got to the compost maker, removed the lid and emptied the stuff into it. As I paused, I was struck by the silence all around me and how pale the snow was, but mostly, how warm I felt. There wasn't a breath of wind that night and I believe it was the micro-climate that we humans have, caused by convention currents of warm air circulating very close to the surface of the skin, that kept me so warm. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to notice more details of my environment, like how the full moon was shining like a searchlight just above the dark outlines of rooftops and tree branches, hanging low in a cloudless sky filled with a thousand bright points of icy starlight. And how the blanket of snow covering the ground glistened with a hard sparkle of frost and how the reflected moonlight illuminated the garden with an wonderful unearthly light, that bathed my naked body in a pale, ethereal glow. And how tiny flakes of snow were drifting slowly and silently down from the dark sky above and settling gently on the palms of my upturned hands, filling me with such delight. And I drank all this in while I stood at the bottom of our garden, naked yet not in the slightest bit cold, and not at all bothered or anxious about being seen. I simply enjoyed it for what it was, an astonishing, breathtaking experience, which had been waiting for me right there, in my own back garden. After spending several more wonderful moments standing naked in the moonlight (apart from the wellies) I made my way slowly up the garden to the house again. Once I was back inside, I felt invigorated and refreshed, which was a shame as I was supposed to be heading for bed! Brendarella.