Tales from the big bench, again
Sunday lunchtime
I remembered today, sat here on my bench, how I used to sit and blog here, outside in the morning. and thought I should revive the practice. Only now it’s just started spitting with rain so I may trot back inside in a minuet. But I’m going to take a few moments, while I wonder how long I should stay here, to soak up the sounds of the birds, sparrows and woodpigeons, and the phantom nose hooter, and smell of the Spring (and all my neighbours sunday lunch smells wafting in the breeze). I can also smell my most favourite wiff starting, that of the dusty ground getting wet as it starts to rain after a dry spell. I think that’s one of the most magical aromas, and I could sit for hours deep breathing in the refreshing scent.
Rain after hot spells is so invigorating, and fills one’s body with renewed vigour (no, not vinegar), maybe they should try and bottle this fragrance, it would be a best seller with the smell of new born babys heads.
It’s stopped spitting now, but I’m covered in ducky bumps – otherwise known as goose pimples – it’s a term some friends and myself came up with as an alternative to the norm back when I was a nutty teenager. Anyway I’m done here for today, but I’d just like to say ‘hi’ to any of my friends who may have popped over for a visit today from Frit Happens, the UKs liveliest forum for glass beadmakers, fusers and the jewellery obsessed.
