This morning some of the restrictions have changed so I decided to change things too. I walked one street back from my usual route, heading uphill instead of down because I’m wildly adventurous like that.
I strode past three or four houses before I reached the corner and turned down the street that led all the way to the park. I realised I had never - in five years of living in this neighbourhood - walked down this particular stretch.
There were ridiculously huge new homes that would have replaced more modest brick veneers built in the early ‘70s. With the old houses went the old gardens, and I determined then and there to take as many photos of the ancient camellias and magnolias and azaleas and such as I could in the coming weeks and months.
Further along the street I encountered three lanky lads laughing together as they walked down the middle of the road, clearly jubilant at the shift in restrictions as well.
I ignored them and they ignored me because they were having such a lovely time in their friendly walking bubble. The morning was so crisp and sunny and frankly totally delicious.
Further along the street I encountered a man walking a Labradoodle. I tried to look at his face but I was not wearing my glasses so mostly I could see a mask with hair.
“Good morning,” I said to the hairy mask.
“Good morning,” it said back in a gentle way.
A little later I spotted hairy mask at the park. He was keeping his dog on a long lead The dog stopped every now and then to look at hairy mask, seeming to ask ‘is this okay?’
Hairy mask would nod ‘it’s okay’ and then they would walk on together.
I claimed the bench seat at one end of the park, settling in for a minute to enjoy the sun on my face, the breeze rearranging my hair.
The park seemed extra especially green this morning. Tiny insects buzzed and swept in celebration of the gorgeous day. The grass was icy in some patches, light green, dark green, white, grey even in others.
From where I sat I could see small groups of people in the distance, dogs running circles around them.
There was a real sense of optimism emanating from everyone and everything today. Even small shifts in restrictions are lifting the Parkies’ (made-up word to describe fans of green space) spirits.
I got up, feeling decidedly drowsy thanks to all the thinking and sunshine and good vibes, and headed out of the park and along the path. I ducked up a side street, past a house that was clearly about to be levelled. (Sob!) and up (another) hill towards home.
I passed a cute house, its garden dotted with colourful statues. A stork. A gnome. A second gnome. Another gnome.
I passed a woman in a white nightie, her grey-haired head bowed as she stared into a garden bed.
I passed those piles of bundled sticks, still there all these weeks later.
The birds were jubilant this morning too, twittering and cheering and squealing.
Further along the path, near home, I saw a woman in a yellow coat and patterned leggings with her phone outstretched. She was taking a video of a friendly magpie, following him as he hopped and preened and then eventually flew away.
I wished I’d worn my yellow coat today instead of the pink one.
Perhaps then she would have known we were the same morning noticing club? Perhaps?
Hairy Mask Man - that made me chuckle. Cute little gardens in tree lined streets with happy chirpy birds don’t seem to be a priority these days. Sad. Loving these descriptive walks - and learning new words ‘Parkies’. ;-) Xx
I love that photo of the vast green space, and parkies is a great word.
I think it's sad when those old gardens are demolished for the current trend of tiny space and low maintenance. I understand why but still it makes me sad. There's something calming, soothing, almost loving of peering over a low fence to see a garden of colourful messy trees and lower shrubs and flowers. It just feels good.
Cheers Kate