I often pass this bust of Nelson Mandela beside The Festival Hall on the South Bank of the Thames. It reflects a world that has changed.
This morning the chill wind of the last few days persists. Then after a heavy shower the sun unexpectedly appears. I step outside. Blessed warmth. An on the petals of the dark blue (the plantsmen call them black) violas tiny, translucent rain drops catch the light.
Grumbling about pigeons to a neighbour I say that they have started to nibble the tops of my cos-like, little gem lettuces. They seem to have a weakness for this variety. "I hate pigeons," she says. "They don't want to eat them. They do it because they are vicious." I have heard country people describe fox assaults on their chicken runs in the same way, when a fox apparently slaughter far more chickens than it is going to eat. I don't hate pigeons myself, but lettuce does strike me as an unusual diet for them. I think of the blog title My Cat Eats Bananas referred to me by CC whose visits to Now's the Time I always appreciate.
2 comments:
I'll never forget Nelson Mandela's visit to Montreal and his speech outside of city hall in 1990. I was so thrilled to attend.
It is, of course, impossible to over-praise Mandela but this bit of statuary proves that one can overdo the dimensions. Even with plenty of space round it this always looked too big and as a result, somehow diminishing.
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