Everything I look at demands something of me, that is to say, almost always, 51 weeks and weekends of the year. But this past weekend, this 1 weekend of 52, something else happened instead. Sat in a car in remote Scotland with 3 friends from times long gone by, I eased back into the blissful silence, except for it was far from silent. The 3 of them chattering away. I closed my eyes breifly, not exactly listening, just allowing their familiar voices to wash over me and absorb into me. The absolute letting go that is being without a hint of judgement. A whole weekend of pure acceptance. People looking at me and demanding nothing. A landscape looking back at my gaze, and demanding nothing.

I like my friendships best 
when they are
naked
exposed 
laid bare.
We take off our necessary masks 
of mothering
caring
wifing
worker
juggler
housekeeper 
keeper of lists.
We remove them all
abandoned 
piled by the loch 
along with our leggings
and jumbled jumpers.
We slip into swimsuits
and one another's hands
immerse ourselves 
in the icy waters 
and
in each others company
where 
we keep 
each other 
warm.