It was raining.
It was cold.
It was bleak.
And I was aboard a miniature train in the grounds of Blenheim Palace with my two grandchildren.
We saw pheasants, damp green mossy banks, many mole hills and I loved it.
Ruby (4), watched by her baby brother, almost squeaked with excitement, jumping up and down as the train arrived in the tiny station. My son wiped the drips off the wooden slatted seats and Ruby and I huddled close together to keep warm, although I’m sure it was only me who felt the cold.
Ruby hadn’t a care in the world.
She was truly living in the moment, waiting for the bump as the engine moved off, holding my hand tightly. She was loving it, every single second and … so was I.
How often do we say, ‘I can’t wait to…’ or ‘Roll on Friday and the week end’, or ‘I’ll be so happy when…’
We spend so much of our lives wishing for ‘sometime in the future’ to arrive, when all will be well.
Perhaps we need to spend more time sitting on a miniature train, in the rain.