Another piece of chance paintwork weathered into something different that seems worth taking note of.
Approaching The Grove is a skein of about a dozen people led by a younger man in a suit. Rain jackets and rucksacks seem to be the order of dress. The men and women have an old, ragged quality. Not exactly lively. The young man is conducting a tour of area of Tunbridge Wells which we call The Village. He points to a chimney pot or finial with his umbrella and makes an observation. Pairs of eyes are raised and lowered. A sense of apathy prevails as the group proceeds untidily towards the park. I am in two minds about tagging on, never confident that I know enough about where I live. But fear that I might fall asleep on my feet.
Heidi and I are sitting outside The Compasses when we are joined for a few minutes by a neighbour who is pregnant. She sits down for a few minutes and talks about her expected baby knowing, as one does nowadays, that it is a boy, though it has not yet seen the light of day. As she talk about its kicking tendencies, she strokes her tummy as though comforting the child within.
1 comment:
Did the word "gravid" rise in your mind? It was some time before that word's meaning stuck with me. I was going to say it belongs to a special category of words for which a meaning-mnemonic proves hard to come by. But the dictionary tells me I am wrong since gravi- is a prefix unsurprisingly related to heavy and weight. I should compliment myself that I've looked up the word but I cannot do this. So often when I finally verify a word I've known and used for decades I find at best there's some nuance I was unaware of, while at worst my understanding turns out to be 50% false. Leading to a quick trawl of historical moments when I may have used the word, when someone better equipped intellectually may have recognised my error but said nothing and allowed me to go on making it. A sort of retrospective lack of confidence.
Post a Comment