Happiness, Happiness

Incy Wincy spider climbed up the waterspout/ Down came the rain and washed the spider out/Out came the sun and dried up all the rain/Incy Wincy spider climbed up the spout again! Nursery Rhyme

I like to be happy and I like to be in good health. We all do. But it isn't always possible, is it? Normally I'm an enthusiastic kind of person - manic even - but for the last few days on the Camino I wasn't feeling quite myself. I was fatigued and listless and my feet hurt.

I returned home from Santander the day the Spanish weather broke. I waited for the ferry in a dejected mood, hunched over a freshly-squeezed orange juice in a bar near the quayside, watching the rain bucket down.

Back in England the weather also turned cold and wet. At once I came down with a virus - probably transported from Spain - which the whole family then promptly caught. And the slight swelling I'd been vaguely aware of in my gum turned into a full-blown abscess.

But the antibiotics have now kicked in. I've just been for a walk round the village. Yes, today the depression lifted, unexpectedly, joyously, like a ray of sunshine shafting through a bank of dark cloud.

Illness, malaise, fits of depression can be cathartic. If you get over them. A selfishly optimistic point of view, I know. Because some people can't.

(The photo shows the sun filtering through early morning clouds above Artieda in northern Spain.)