Misty mornings....

I drove to work this morning past fields that were blanketed in the softest, wispiest, white mist.
A pale, golden sun hung in a silvery sky.
I wanted to stop and stand and stare.
A few weeks ago I would have done just that, stood still and stared, drinking in the beauty of the scenery all around me. A few weeks ago I had the time to stand and stare.

This morning I had no time.
This morning I was en route to the office.
This morning I missed the mist.

I am struggling to adjust to the world of work.
The office is a large and impressive building, all glass and eco-technology and state-of-the-art stuff, it's very high-tech and yet it's also very beautiful.
The entire wall of the open-plan area where I sit, surrounded by cables and computers (yes, my work requires more than one), is glass and beyond the glass there is sky and there are trees, it's more like a painting by Monet than a view from the office window.

I wish that I could sit facing that window because I miss being outdoors.
I miss spending most of my day in the fresh air with the wind teasing my hair and the sun warming my bones. I even miss the west wind that blew into Brittany bringing rain from the Atlantic that drenched me within seconds of walking out of my door.
I miss the vast expanse of sky and the incredibly beautiful rolling hills, woods and meadows

I feel like a caged bird
A bird in a glass bowl

And so I sit at my desk and work steadily and conscientiously
I do not surf the net, read a paper or play games
I do not gossip and joke with my colleagues

I simply sit on my perch, semi-tamed, and sing a quiet little song
and bide my time...