Change.

Springtime and change is all around us, ponds laden with frog spawn new buds on the trees and faint brush strokes of green among the hedgerows. It is difficult not to notice change on this scale, the whole of creation it seems to be on the move. I think I was around 7-years old when I first caught a frog and kept it in a bucket in the back yard, eventually my parents encouraged me to let it go and on our way to Ugthorpe, Freddy was released into a small stream at Guisborough. The photo above was taken while walking through Guisborough woods last weekend; who knows? it may be one of Freddy's descendants.

I have been suffering with back pain recently and our housekeeper Mrs Johnson suggested a long soak in the bath with some herbal bubbles; I usually shower so the thoughts of a bath never enter my head. Mrs J prepared the bath and called me when it was ready, a room full of steam and the smell of lavender was quite inviting. It was during this long soak that i began to wonder when did I grow so tall? My toes just under the taps and my shoulders resting securely at the other end; now I am only 5foot 4inches but thinking back I was always known as shrimp, so when did I grow? Growing up in Warwick Street Middlesbrough, we didn't have a bathroom and each Saturday night the old metal bathtub would be brought in and filled with hot water. I had my own enamel tin bath (the one that was used to carry the washing); bath time was great in front of the fire. But the question is still there, when did I grow?

We respond to change, generally after the event; how would it be if we were able to live the changes?