Dear Diary; Time to Stand and Stare

‘Excuse me ma’am a voice above me spoke, as I sat on the step in front of an entrance to some flats

‘Sloane Square’?

‘Straight up’ – I replied after orientating where I actually was, and pointing up the road..

I’d popped out for a coffee at Matcha beyond, not far from my flat…

Just up the road

The rain had started in small spits while I was sitting on a bench enjoying my extra hot, extra strong flat white, with a matcha almond croissant – my second breakfast ( I’d like really to eat breakfast for every meal)

The rain got harder, and so I moved to sit on the ground on my rucksack handbag under a little ( closed) newspaper stand.

A man was sheltering there with me… The rain, a torrent now, was accompanied by claps of thunder, loud resounding powerful


The leaves dripped, shiny green, the park emptied of people and my companion drank his beer, smoked a cigarette and then began a phone conversation… Some in English… ‘ F***ing British summer weather’  metaphorically shaking his fist at the storm – magnificent in her creativity and energy…

Mainly though, he spoke in his mother tongue, (unrecognisable to me) and then after he had ended his conversation, he started to sing, loudly on and on

I got used to it.

I started to read Jonathan Livingston seagull in Spanish

He kept singing

The rain kept pouring.

I had to stand up, the ground under my bottom was becoming wet…

I watched the taxis go by and by

Perhaps I would take a ride…

Suddenly the space around me felt empty, different – I looked up and all was quiet and my companion was disappearing across the park.

I felt his absence

Entangled together for fifteen minutes under a little news-stand shelter in a storm.

The rain lessened and so I crossed the road, and sat down with my book in the entrance to the flats…. A young woman came back and let herself in to her home while I sat there…. She invited me in, to sit on a sofa in the entrance hall…

Another connection, strangers entangled for a moment

I thanked her for her kindness – but declined, I was enjoying my coffee break on a step in the rain…

It reminded me of my life always

Wandering about


Watching the world go by….

With our dog Candy when I was eight, maybe ten years old… I would walk with him across the common land, three or four miles to Grayshott, then buy a drink ( often lucozade!) and some chocolate… 

And sit on a bench

Watching the world go by

My perfect life to sit and watch.

As William Wordsworth said

‘What is this life is full of care we have no time to stop and stare

No time to stand beneath the boughs,. And stare as long as sheep or cows’

Dear Diary; Round The Sun

The world keeps turning…

The green parrots keep flying overhead…

The mother with her new baby arrives – she parks his ( how do you know he’s a boy? Anadi asks) little orange pram beside the bench – gets out her phone and starts her routine… First stepping up and down off the bench, then a lunge matrix… she pushes his (‘I just think he’s a he’, I reply) pram to the open grass to do her ‘frog jumps’ and ‘split squats’…

Anadi and I finish our circuit and go over to the small white building to practise our handstands ( ever improving, but still I need the security of the little white building to balance me…!) She is watching and calls out in admiration, whilst pulling her baby from his pram; she takes him over to the bench to sit and feed…

Multi tasking – baby at her breast, her eyes on her phone – mid exercise routine… 

The world keeps turning.

Lapping the park – the familiar figures – we encounter every day.

All of us rising and running at the same time

Each day


Round the park we go

Round the clock we go, following the earth’s rotation each day

Again and again…

Around the sun; a whole year long to journey back to where we first began


Very fast 

Sixty seven thousand miles an hour

To return to the starting point and set off once more…

Mirrored in us lapping the park on wheels and on legs

Going nowhere 

Back to the beginning

Travelling ever inwards if we care to look, up and see the bright blue sky of promise

Of infinite space, endless, limitless

Our spirit free

All that we can be