Restless Feet

My feet are restless. It happens from time to time.
It takes effort to remain still something I am normally very good at doing. I have often spent a long time seated by a fire gazing into the flickering orange light and allowing my mind its freedom to wander. Allowing thoughts to come down to their natural conclusions without forced efforts or labourious intent. This is not one of those day. This was the other kind of day. The ones where the brain starts plotting and planning before sleep has even left it. The days that your already tired of thinking before you even open your eyes to the new dawn light. I don’t like these days. They rarely bode well for patient and considered action, lending themselves much more the haste and truculent endeavour. Restless feet. That’s what I call it. Where you cannot stick to one task that keeps you in place for too long. The feet take you on and on allowing you no rest. Oh you can try sit and force the feet to stop, but all too soon the tapping starts, or the leg bounce, and even though you are engaging your mind in whatever is in front of you, the feet still itch and twitch.

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