Simple Pleasures #3

Watching Snow

At night, watch it steal from a grey, leaden sky into a quiet cul-de-sac. Stealthily painting pavements and cars with its purity and piling up potential energy for a child's morning pleasure. I love to watch the streetlamp's illumination of constant falling snow, magically backlighting the main event. Snowflakes are beautiful and when they cascade from the sky, I find them mesmerising.

When the house is at its quietest late at night you can find me staring through a window hoping for falling snow. Round here, you might catch sight of a fox padding its way through backyards leaving its rounded prints as a reminder that it was around, looking for a scrap. Those kind of prints are fine, but I dislike footprints, even my own, spoiling the untouched white landscape after a flurry of snow. When it starts to melt or it becomes a little muddy, I can't help but feel a little disappointed...

Say what you like about snow (and I've spent more than my fair share of time shovelling it across my driveway) but I still think it's a simple pleasure. But enough about me. What are some of your best memories of snow?

Simple Pleasures #2

The smell of sun-tan lotion

I'm sure it's happened to you. You twist the lid and hold it near your face. It might be a wet and windy Glasgow evening, but suddenly you're transported back in time to that beach in the south of France. You might be soaking in Seattle, but your senses are sizzling in the Seychelles.The tiny specks of sand around the bottle neck only confirm that you're actually basking in the mid-afternoon sunshine. You can almost hear the waves crashing to shore...

Now, you may be pulled back to reality almost instantly, but isn't there something magical about this kind of time-travel? A fragrant De Lorean voodoo that can send your worries scurrying for a split-second? Let's give a standing ovation to the olfactory perception that sun-tan lotion or sunscreen can bring us. It's a simple pleasure. Have you been taken on a journey by your sense of smell recently?

Simple Pleasures #1

The perfect view

 I remember being stopped halfway down Polnoon Street in a nearby village called Eaglesham. Temporary traffic lights had been set up and I pulled the handbrake on. I'd never have stopped at that point otherwise. Framed through an overhanging oak, I glimpsed the perfect view of fields stretching in a patchwork of green far off into the distance.


When we glimpse the perfect view, we're momentarily transported. Eyes shift off ourselves for a second and onto something much bigger, beyond our tiny lives. A view can bring calm and tranquility. It's a simple pleasure. Keep your eyes open and maybe you'll see the perfect view today. Let me know if you do...