I'm about to say nothing original. Not only not original, but possibly something I have already said here, in this space, at another time. This makes me wonder if I've been blogging too long ...... if I don't properly remember what I've said before …
Maybe it’s got nothing to do with my blogging tenure and has much more to do with a poor memory.
This is all by-the-by. What is important (enough, even, to risk repeating myself, if this is a repeat from some other sunny time) is that London has recently been blessed with days of extraordinary sunshine and balmy temperatures.
On one of these days, I am on the bus heading toward Fulham; we are mid way across Putney Bridge, and I look out across the Thames. It is a wide river with a personality that changes with the tides. Right now it is full and lapping up at the edges of the surrounding banks. The reflection of the previously mentioned extraordinary sunshine glitters on the river's surface. A string of boats are moored off centre closer to the south bank than the north. This makes me think of the part on my head which doesn't like to settle in the middle, but rather falls just to one side ... if I had to give it a direction, I'd say my part falls to the east. The view on this day is a picture perfect impressionist painting.
The toy boats in the Luxembourg Gardens. Renoir. Cheap and chirpy. Light and airy.
I look over to the northern bank where the sun dapples the trees of Bishop's Park, a strip of urban green, also known as the spot where the priest warned Gregory Peck of the nefarious origin of his son in The Omen . Occasionally I run under the boughs of those over-the-Thames-towering trees where I know the pavement is warped from the growing roots below.
Like miniature tectonic plates.
I think about my runs. How sometimes they are hard and suck.
Usually.
How other times I think if I were Lara Croft - or a monkey - I could swing from bough to bough the length of the park.
The bus moves on and I lose my view.
8 comments:
Always good to think in jazz. I see those boats too; not the ones on the river, the ones in the head.
Sometimes they are anchored. Other times they drift. I also see them on voyages.
And other times you think if you were Lara Croft? LOL!
Also I recently had the feeling that I've said the same old shit on my blog like a thousand times. And that I have nothing new to add.
London is wonderful on sunny days, it was just the other 350 odd days of the year that used to get me down!
I'll second Mondraussie's comment! I first considered leaving England after a July where it rained EVERY single day, hot on the heels of three weeks abroad of lovely summer weather...The last time I was in England was the summer of the floods (was that 2 or 3 years ago?). July again, I had to go shopping for a coat and jumpers.
Rashbre ~ I like the comparison to jazz. I've never felt that cool.
Sid ~ I think repeating oneself is just part of the human condition.
Mondraussie ~ My Man is getting to the same point. He wants the sun!
PG ~ I remember that summer. This summer has been the first real summer in years. My man says London on beautiful days is hard to beat, but they are so few and far between. x
"This makes me think of the part on my head which doesn't like to settle in the middle, but rather falls just to one side ... if I had to give it a direction, I'd say my part falls to the east."
Oh, that's brilliant.
I know I said this before, but honestly, I feel like I'm with you on the bus seeing everything.
Rassles ~ Thanks, you. You're brilliant.
Blues ~ You're welcome to join me any time! x, e
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