Kaspa writes: A few weeks ago I was invited to a meeting. I was emailed instructions which included the date of the meeting. I wrote the details in my diary… time moved on.

Last Monday afternoon I got an email, “Sorry you couldn’t make the meeting. Let me know what’s going on for you…” I panicked. Had I written down the wrong date (which is something that I might have done)? I checked the email again. I’d been given the wrong date! 

We both got our diaries out and rearranged the meeting. 

This morning I got my stuff together, dressed a little smarter than usual, and hung around waiting to leave. I sat down, I stood up. I watched the clock. Eventually I got in the car and drove over to the meeting. Having been given the wrong date earlier, my mind started to turn over other scenarios of what might wrong. 

I pulled into the car park in plenty of time. There was no sign of anyone else. I rang the buzzer. I waited. I rang the buzzer again. The muscles in my neck bunched and I began to pace.

I was working out how long was socially acceptable to wait before calling when I thought that it was probably a good idea to double check the meeting arrangements.

Thank goodness for smartphones. I checked the email conversation.

I had written the date down wrongly.

At first I was angry with myself. What a waste of a morning! But perhaps it was worth it for the flawed parts of both of us to connect. We had both managed to mess up meeting times. I was able to see their mistake in a softer light, as well as my own. The tension in my shoulders evaporated and I smiled. It was pretty funny, after all.

The drive back was beautiful. The countryside is full of amazing autumn colours at the moment, and I collected plenty of small stones.

it is autumn and the hedges are on fire

yellow ash leaves dance on the road in the wake of a rattling truck

a mottled grouse furrows a path through the sky

We’ll try and meet again next week.

Wish me luck.