Doorways.

I found this on my PC last night, and as it kinda summed up the last few months of Change Making, I thought I'd stick it here:

Leaning agaist the solid oak frame, and clutching coffee with both hands, I can feel the sun as it soaks my clothes and skin. The sky, blue as pre-school artholds dots of cartoon clouds, and further back a day-moon shines in mystical defiance. A glimmer of a rainbow forms across the dew-soaked earth. The springtime birds, and happy infant calls mingle with the traffic-noise of people's lives, but still, in view there's picture perfect fields, their flora swaying, calming and inviting, by the duckling stream and wisdom-laden copse. A cat meanders past, and the scent of its latest haystack romp rises up and mingles with the green rose smell of holidays.

And a part of me is longing to rush out, to touch and smell, and hear it all, to feel the burning heat of it until the very essence of the day is part of me, a tattoo in my mind.

Inside, the heat of sun is absent, and the air is still. A cat snoozes on the boiler, and coffee gurgles as it filters to the jug; it's heavy, fresh aroma mingling with that of buttered toast. The radio emits a gentle,, easy tune, and in the next room the T.V adds a deeper tone. Someone in the background tries to start a conversation; their tone riddled with urgency.

And suddenly I cannot leave, but am discontent to stay. So I stand and stare through the doorway as I try to find an answer.