I will order another coffee, in a few minutes, but for now I am indulging myself with the peaceful quiet. Even within myself I am almost peaceful, almost quiet; yet still alive to beauty, to the beauty of people and their places, I have just watched a video of my grandson Thomas, singing happy birthday to me, from his holiday cottage in Wales.
Earlier I had the luxury of five snoozes, each with its own set of dreams, each with its own trail back to my youth, each with its own knowledge, good knowledge, that another snooze could so easily follow.
I am at Carsington Water in the Peak District, it is very cold, and very beautiful. I walked around, took photographs; through the stones on stone island, took photographs; of the birds, in the water, and in the sky.
A second cup of coffee, but no second cake, those days are over. Sunlight falls onto my table, and reflects brightly from the aluminium chairs and tables outside on the patio. The sun forges a thick, bright and solid stripe, straight down the water towards me; I am reminded of the song Do You Realise by The Flaming Lips.
I thought that today I might write something deep and meaningful, for I am reading Paul Auster's The Invention of Solitude at the moment. It is a memoir; the first part being about his father and their relationship. He claims to have had little rapport with his dad, and I think that mine, and my father's relationship, apart from a few sparkling moments, was much the same. I couldn't tell you much about my father's psyche, or what he thought his raison d'être was.
Suddenly, a slight darkness comes to mind, and I declare that today I will not try to remember anything that I don't want to remember. I will try to stay on the path of the ethereal light.
