Singing Along

On the way to the dentist the middle-aged man in the car waiting next to ours at the traffic lights is singing along, I'm guessing loudly, to Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart.  We can hear the original in our car with the windows closed, so he's definitely got the volume ratcheted up. No complaints though, I too have a bit of a thing for those big anthemic 80s ballads.

His eyes are half closed, head slightly raised, lips moving with the words.  If I were alone I'd be tempted to join in.

..  And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever

In the dentist's waiting room Johnny Nash, via the piped muzak, tells us all it's going to be a bright, bright sunshiny day.  I don't burst into song of course, though I'd like to, but my foot starts tapping.

I can see clearly now the rain has gone
I can see all obstacles in my way 
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind ...

Yes. Hope you're right, Johnny. Fingers crossed. 

Dog rose

It pays to venture out early on a sun-filled Sunday in early summer. Just me, the sun and nature in all her glory.   Destination: the river path. No-one else abroad and abundant waves of birdsong, near and far, call and response.  Luxuriant vegetation, waist high grasses of all kinds, brambles, goosegrass, thistles, dog roses (a favourite).  The soft murmur of the river, quiet and peaceful now.  For the first time I feel a hint of what I was able to do five years ago, how much I used to love this kind of solitary rural meandering - and nurture a sense that this is gradually being restored.  I feel a timid, anxious mixture of hope and gratitude.