A sea side town, still out of season but gently waking and preparing. Inflatables laid empty and flat on the beach, painters touching up beach cafes. A beach to ourselves in an ever so hazy white sunlight. A blood red sea, a heavenly hot donut, a penny shove gamble and a forlornly empty cafe.
A sunny, still, morning. Blue sky. Birds are singing vigorously and evidence of new green growth in abundance. No bike again – a revision to my constructed story, perhaps a holiday or a change of job ? Skirted around the Paper Mill site, along the river. Across the bridge. Noticing the watery reflections under the bridge and listening to the rhythmic clunk of traffic set against the gentle cooing of roosting pigeons. Inspecting the progress on re-cladding the futuristic flat complex, scaffolding going up on a second block whilst the first is stripped back to an insulation level.
Willow trees are fresh green and gently sway as we walk under them. A garage dead end and an emergence from a never walked path giving a fresh perspective on a familiar location.
