Hall's Bookshop in Chapel Place, a landmark, a destination, a place to linger.We cut grass too soon, mow it or scythe it. Today the grass that is not yet cut sways in the wind, its feathery heads of flowers and seeds shining in the sun. Hay fever sufferers will not like it, but it is a pleasing sight.
An elderly man is reading a newspaper spread out on the slatted wooden cover of one of the waste bins in The Grove. He turns the pages slowly, using the bin as a lectern., intent on what he is doing. There is a yellow shopping bag at his feet. I watch him as I approach and pass him, and only as I am about to leave The Grove, do I hear a cross between a snort and a cough, a sound almost certainly of disgust, as he deposits the paper in the bin beneath its slatted lid, picks up his bag and makes off.
No comments:
Post a Comment