An interesting day viewed with different eyes. Not so much the wonder of Nature but wondering at human nature.
I observe the self-encapsulated couples and singles, more of them out today, ambling down London Rd as though isolation has made them even more blind to others. No alertness here. Bent on shopping or heading for the seafront, their sun-starved legs stick mournfully out of short skirts and shorts. It is undeniably the best day in terms of sun.
Looking up from the junction of Silchester and Kenilworth Roads there’s the tell-tale trail of a plane cutting the sky in half. On round to the seafront the traffic whooshes past as frequently as before the advent of Lockdown. There seems to be a tacit agreement in the air that LD is over. Psychologically. In this dazzle of sunshine a seaside town jauntiness flexes its muscles. Good? Bad?
There is only so long that people will remain cooped up unless they are actually in prison. They want to return to normal. Normal is safe. Normal is where change doesn’t happen.
And my heart feels sore for Nature. Walking is good. But the habit for many is to drive because they can. Anywhere, away from perceived restriction. Away from themselves, even though we can’t actually ever leave ouselves behind. Would it hurt too much to leave the car behind a little more often without being told to?
On a cheerier note, after the little park and a surprise of sun-ripened dandelions, I walk under the collonade past Burton buildings and on to Marine Court, the 1930s block of flats shaped like an ocean liner. Many delights along the way. A startlingly blue plaque on a white washed wall, graffiti on a boarded up shop, a stack of orderly pizza cartons; a painting of woods seen through the eyes of an ecosystem, and shoes, random, scuffed and gnarled, tossed under a lamppost like a piece of New Tate installation art.
And always to my right the sea lining up with the sky. Not a chem trail in sight.