Saturday, 27 August 2011

Spring awakening

The city is throwing back her winter coverings, stretching and yawning smilingly, as the trees blush with blossom buds and the sun plays for longer.

People on the streets are showing some skin, walking just a little slower, with their faces up and looking at the world.  On the patches of green where the sun touches there are people sitting and doing nothing more than enjoying the novelty of the sun and each other's company.  They are smiling.

Weddings are happening.  Spray-tanned brides with ultra white teeth, hair extensions and fake fingernails are accompanied by their entourage of bridesmaids, teetering on ill-fitting shoes in dresses which suit none of them.  I wonder if the groom recognises the woman in the dress for she surely doesn't look like this all the time.  In the street, people still turn to look at the bride.  Then they see her smoking.  Doesn't quite fit with the princess image.

Children are exuberant, freed from their layers of clothing.  A little girl climbs to the top of the fence at the train station.  Her father issues a warning.  She is to be careful or she will have a terrible accident.  He is calm.  Standing nearby with his arms folded.  She confirms that she will be careful.  I hope that it's not like a Roadrunner cartoon where Coyote goes over the cliff and is fine until he realises that he's gone over the cliff.

Old ladies are walking in my street, on their frames.  I smile and say hello.  The greet me in a rush and comment on what a lovely day it is as they put one foot carefully in front of the other.  They tell me that they always try to get out for a walk, but it's much easier to do when the sun is shining.  I wonder if I'm the only person they've spoken to today.

The whole city seems to be smiling and stretching.  I almost collide with a man as we cross paths in the street. He smiles, apologises and puts his hand out to give me right of way.

I am knitting during my train trip home when two young girls sit opposite me.  I can feel them watching my hands.  They ask me what I'm doing and how long I've been knitting, admire my work and then are gone.

And now, the city hunkers down for the night as the darkness creeps into every crevice.  She is pulling up the covers to protect herself from the chill of night.   But it feels different now. Hopeful.  Spring is nearly here.

No comments:

Post a Comment