In a fragment of mirror, I snap myself, in a sea of raindrops.
As I enter Calverley Ground, the sun comes out as though it had switched on automatically to greet me. To my right, a camellia explodes in a cloud of white petals.
My Tilley winter hat is going to be put away until next year's cold weather. To replace it, I have acquired a summer hat from the same idiosyncratic, Canadian firm. This one is made from hemp, described as "naturally resistant to UV light, mould and mildew, and to salt water. "Hemp, " says the accompanying leaflet, " breathes better than cotton." The hat is guaranteed for life, insured against loss (if you lose it the manufacturers will replace it), floats and possesses a secret pocket in the crown.
2 comments:
I hope to see you at the BR in your hemp hat. I think you should keep something special in the secret pocket. A pornographic villanelle, perhaps. Or a quotation from "Scenes from clerical life".
I used to smoke your new hat, through a water bong.
I don't do that anymore. I was much younger then.
...and stupid.
(WV for this comment is 'ended'. That's what would have happened to my world, had I continued smoking hats.)
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