Making time for the little things

I've been prioritising my well-being, and I think it's time to keep closer tabs on my metrics, so I resurrected my Garmin Forerunner Music 645 and reverted to an old mobile phone that's compatible with the Garmin app. I have missed this smartwatch for its many features, as it's like a mini-computer on my wrist. Furthermore, it's water resistant and perfect for all occasions, and it's great for navigating while cycling with a built-in GPS, compass, and WiFi, and I can receive my SMS messages directly to it, and a lot more that I'm yet to figure out.

My Garmin has been inoperative to reduce the number of items that I need to charge on the boat. However, with sunnier days coming and more solar energy on the boat, I figured that now would be a good time to revert to it without being too concerned about energy consumption and recharging it.

I particularly like that it tells me the daily sunrise and sunset times, which allows me to allocate some spare time to enjoy those special moments.

I like slow, quiet mornings like today, the way I think Sunday mornings should be—a strong cup of black coffee with a tasty breakfast. It's nice to look out and watch the overnight frost slowly melt away, revealing the freshness of the vegetation.

The weather promises to be good for the next few days, the scenery is becoming more colourful with signs of spring, and the days are brighter, turning into longer evenings. This is so uplifting.

I'm at Foxton Locks, one of my favourite locations on the network. The vast, immaculately kept grounds of 34 acres are stunning, and the picturesque views of the hills and the flight of locks make it a popular location for all ages.

Here, I somehow managed to avoid spectators at around lunchtime, as I went for an ice cream from the cafe at the top lock.

The surrounding village of Foxton is serene, with farmhouses dotted along the towpath. It's a great cycle route with the canals sandwiched by hilly fields and farms, but with the recent continuous rainfall, some areas were a quagmire and treacherous for cycling, but the pastures were invigorating nonetheless.

Even the animals looked happier with the sun out.
I wasn't quick enough to snap a photo of an alpaca rolling in the grass like a happy baby, but it was a spectacle.

This lone swan went for miles at an impressive gliding speed and was highly spirited.

Basking in glorious days like these is a mood in itself, and conversing with other narrowboaters is a lovely balance for me. There was an eye-catching small boat in vibrant black, green, and yellow—the Jamaican colours—which I complimented the owner on. It so happens that he, Martin, is a woodcarver, and the small boat was used for storage for his wood carvings.
Martin enjoys doing intricate, large designs of animals. He had a giant bird with spread wings that he's almost completed, which he's proud of, and he and his retired wife have been living on the canals for the last seven years, after living in a motorhome and spending much time in Spain. They have two boats—a long one that's their home and the smaller attractive boat, which they travel in like a convoy along the canals.
I didn't take any photos of his work as I would rather not overstep a boundary there. You know, like an artist who changes their pieces over time. However, he invited me to return over Easter weekend, when a group of narrowboaters showcase their art and craft. I'll be in this area for some time, so maybe we'll get to enjoy that event.

We engaged in conversations about life in the UK now compared to how it was 10-15 years ago. Town centres are dying, and people are feeling safer in these small villages, and it makes the slow pace of living more appealing. So, it's great to have camaraderie in the narrowboaters' community. Martin and his wife have been moored in this location for an extended period and will have to move on soon, as there's a 14-day winter mooring with Canals & Rivers Trust workers who are lenient and understanding, especially when boat traffic is slow.

Overall, I felt re-energised from my day's activities. A little conversation can sometimes be a small, magnanimous gesture that might make someone's life brighter. I was certainly in a mellow mood just in time to watch the sunset while a group of lads spent the afternoon fishing in front of the boat.

How has your weekend been so far, and have you been taking it slow and easy? I'm always keen to hear about your recent activities, particularly your slow-living fulfillment.

Thanks for stopping by, as always. :)