Unravelling

Once again the Beast from the East disrupted all our lives - in my case, meaning a postponement of an overdue visit to see my mum, which was a shame but just as well I didn't go, as Devon was far worse hit than Cornwall, and I wouldn't have wanted to be stuck in my van in the snow.

Sunday morning dawned sunny and calm - the thermometer in my yard registered ten degrees, and I thought no snow would be possible. But at 2pm the first flakes fell and soon after that all was whited out, though a friend and I walked through town with Moll, along the seafront and then sat in the Falmouth Hotel watching the huge, fat flakes coat everything in white.

While it's lovely to look at, I find it makes everything seem unnervingly unreal. A few weeks ago it was fun, my birthday, and it makes a difference if a) you don't have to go anywhere and b) you have someone to share the snow with. This time, I ended up feeling really disconnected, not helped by reading Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine. This book is a brilliant but agonising study in loneliness. The heroine is a 30 year old woman who has never known love, compassion or even friendship but has not a trace of self pity about her. The book is her journey to discovering that she is worth loving, and how her unlikely saviour shows her how to make friends. But the journey is tough and I felt increasingly vulnerable as I read it.

Admittedly I'd had some bad news - a friend died last week and another friend suffered several strokes and is in hospital, so I was perhaps more aware than usual of the fragility of life - but this book really touched so many nerves and made me realise how quickly people can unravel.

Thankfully the snow has now all gone and life is back to normal. Tuesday dawned bright and sunny and I was able to go down to Lelant to do the next walk for the Rosamunde Pilcher book. Hayle and St Ives Bay looked at their very best, and I felt very blessed to live in such a beautiful place.

But underneath my appreciation of where i live is a definite wobble - a real current of unease and self doubt. No matter how strong we might feel, we are all vulnerable, and it pays perhaps to remember those less fortunate than ourselves. It doesn't take much for any of us to unravel, to be one of the less fortunate. So let's all help each other however we can. It doesn't have to be much - an email, a phone call, a text. A hug or a song. Little things are often the ones that make the difference.