Bird on a wet wall
Lorraine drove me to the station. Work. I took full advantage of my lunch hour to mooch along the canals. The folks I am working with are mostly decent. Snapping the painted heron on a waterside wall. I've enjoyed walking along the canals very much. There are pockets of beauty all along it, everything from the floating leaves on the dark water, to the reflections of brightly coloured barges. Some of them are stinky though, when their engines are working. One or two places along there river, there seems to be meeting points where a few bargemen (it's always men) gather some of them drinking from beer cans. When I walk far enough there is a stretch under a flyover, there are two legless armchairs propped against the concrete and barbed wire wall there. They make me wonder who sits there at night. Left pretty much on time, and trundled home reading the Solzhenitsyn, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich book. It is short, but unrelenting. In the last couple of weeks, I have ...