The flutter of an orange-tip
A cuckoo's call
The questing hooks of bracken breaking sod
Ponies, ribs spread, bellies full, with new life
Miniature oak trees on each terminal twig, trailing green flowers
Apple blossom
Dusty gutters
Sunlight
The ghosts of sleepers in the disused railway bed
More cyclists than cars
Wednesday 22 April 2020
Monday 13 April 2020
Thursday 9 April 2020
The pace of ***
Our right to roam around the ironmonger has been suspended. Transactions are now conducted over a trestle table round the side. The till is a flowerpot tray.
The pace of life has been reduced. People on the streets in ones and twos (or families with the compulsory bikes) are happy to smile from a distance and nod or greet. A few cars still circulate, but the steady drone of traffic has receded behind the bucolic whistling of bird life.
I realised when out for a piece of daily exercise yesterday that, after changing my trousers more than a week ago, I had still not accumulated that cruft of jangling coin in my pocket. Not sure whether to feel denuded or liberated.
The loudest noise I heard when outside was the sneeze of a pedalling youth on the opposite pavement; the quietest was when a fox, trotting up the churchyard, noticed my attention and broke into an easy lope.
The pace of life has been reduced. People on the streets in ones and twos (or families with the compulsory bikes) are happy to smile from a distance and nod or greet. A few cars still circulate, but the steady drone of traffic has receded behind the bucolic whistling of bird life.
I realised when out for a piece of daily exercise yesterday that, after changing my trousers more than a week ago, I had still not accumulated that cruft of jangling coin in my pocket. Not sure whether to feel denuded or liberated.
The loudest noise I heard when outside was the sneeze of a pedalling youth on the opposite pavement; the quietest was when a fox, trotting up the churchyard, noticed my attention and broke into an easy lope.
Monday 6 April 2020
Wednesday 1 April 2020
Quiet Spring
I have always enjoyed supermarkets, for the wide range of ways they provide for avoiding social contact. Often, I have the energy to chat, and I choose meats and cheeses from the delicatessen counter and the more voluble checkout operators. Occasionally I'm in a hurry, or just plain grumpy, and I choose the pre-wrapped stuff and the self-serve tills.
Yesterday, under the new regime, I waited fourth in line to enter the shop. I enjoyed a peaceful time selecting from (a slightly decimated) range of produce, paid, nearly in silence, and emerged faster than was possible before this crisis hit.
I don't think it was grim satisfaction, just that the experience was far less unpleasant than I had expected.
Yesterday, under the new regime, I waited fourth in line to enter the shop. I enjoyed a peaceful time selecting from (a slightly decimated) range of produce, paid, nearly in silence, and emerged faster than was possible before this crisis hit.
I don't think it was grim satisfaction, just that the experience was far less unpleasant than I had expected.
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