During the night i wake every hour or so. Rather than think thoughts, which leads to depression, i turn on the radio with thirty minutes with the sleep timer. BBC world service is adfree and serious. Unfortunately, it is largely news which is depressing. War and famine in Yemen, war and famine in Tigray, Israel/Palestine, dodgy Brexit deal, blundering lying Johnson … i won’t go on.
Sunday, June 20th. Sooner i go for a walk the better. Rain forecast at 9a.m. A favourite walk, two mile circuit of Canterbury. Didn’t feel fit for more. That’s another story,
On Wincheap an ambulance driver bought food at the recently opened “Mange tout” cafe. Saw a white squirrel at Toddlers Cove playground. Not quick enough with camera. Hugged a tree. Runners. Dog walkers. A row of sleeping mallards on the riverbank. River not very high in spite of recent heavy rain.
Ecopark off Pound Lane. Part lawns and benches. Part long grass and bee friendly plants. Self seeded sycamores were removed and boxes installed for bats and birds.
Plenty of water over the weir near the Millers Arms. Drizzle. And not yet nine. Said to a woman in St Radigunds St “hoped to avoid the rain” She replied she was going to put on a longer coat.
As i walked past the Parrot pub and onto Broad Street i found myself singing “on the Sunday morning sidewalk …” From Kris Kristofferson’s song “Sunday morning coming down” made famous by the great Johnny Cash.
But i wasn’t coming down. The rain was, which i dislike, but the walk and contact with the natural world had lifted my depression.
Hence the clumsy title.
Rambling Brummie 