I went out into the garden today and sighed, because so much needed to be done, and there was interesting stuff to do indoors.
But I'm glad I did put my wellies on and go outside, and as I worked I realised these things about gardening:
It is good to be immersed in the smells of earth, of the scents of foliage as you cut back and brush past, the aroma of compost, and of growing things.
Quite a lot is possible in two hours: more than you expect.
You somehow become alert to another rhythm, a different perspective.
You are exposed to the unexpected.
On a bad day, it can be enough to make you want to carry on.
You become aware that everything in the garden will continue without your intervention, which is somehow soothing.
By some unknown means, it gets your thoughts moving, your anxieties settle, there is a peacefulness.
The fear that nothing will ever be completed seems to become oddly disarmed as you work, despite the fact that every job you begin seems to reveal another.
It is the perfect excuse for a cup of tea and a toasted teacake.