On the Nature of Disappointment

I was supposed to be going to Devon tomorrow for a final blast of sun and salt sea air before the biscuit tin is shut up for the winter. Not to mention a blow across Dartmoor with Ted.  But I am too poorly to go and shall be spending at least the next two days in bed with a succession of mugs of hot milk and rum.  

Here's what I'm going to be missing.

rain, but not on me

murk

salt

peace

exertion

fog

treasure

wind

reflection

shelter

redwings

waters

stormlight

horizon

sheep

life

an exorcised dog