The emptiness of Sophia Gardens

I had a very lazy morning, falling asleep after saying morning prayer again, nine hours altogether! But it seems to do me good. It's not not to be under pressure, and have nothing to worry about, but rather let the natural rhythm of my physical need for rest and exercise take priority.

Yesterday, the daytime temperature was around nine degrees. It went down to zero overnight, what you'd expect consistently for this time of year. Warm damp air from the west meeting much colder air from the East and mixing in our corner of the continent. Sara, near coastal Gothenburg in Sweden sent me photos of their garden with twenty centimetres of snow, and Roy in Madrid has sent photos of Spain's capital city with thirty centimeters of snow. It's 667m above sea level there, about the same as the Black Mountains, often the furthest south winter snow settles in Wales nowadays. We both miss walking in the snow, and the lovely silence it brings. We have to be grateful for frost anyway, as it plays a part in balancing populations of insects that's vital to our ecosystem.

My afternoon walk took me to around Pontcanna Fields down to Sophia Gardens and back. The cricket stadium and National Sports Centre are closed, and the coach station deserted, as no National Express coach services are operating around the country now. Just a few joggers and dog walkers are about. The main road is fairly busy, and some local buses run, but are virtually empty. It's so strange, other worldly. There was a solitary merganser duck perched on small rock in the river, in the same position as I've seen the creature several times lately. There's a few flat stones nearer the shore where in previous years a family of mergansers has been raised before moving downstream. Is this one waiting for a breeding partner to turn up? I guess they must make a nest there on the river bank, although it won't be so congenial this year with so much of the riverbank undergrowth cut down and not yet started to grow back. I hope that poor patient duck isn't waiting in vain.

The emptiness of Sophia Gardens, looking so smart since the recent upgrading of paths and parking places, reminded me of the first few days of lock-down in Ibiza when I walked to the empty beach resorts and found everything closed with very few people out and about. March is the season when many holiday places are closed to guests or undergoing maintenance, but there are still apartments occupied by people who either work locally or stay off-season because they enjoy it when it's quieter, except that Spain's lock-down obliged people to return to or remain in their primary place of residence, so travel by land and sea without a stated legitimate purpose was impossible. Stronger enforcement measures didn't stop the virus from spreading, however, in poor deprived working class communities. It didn't stop people from socializing and spreading the virus, however heavily punished were those caught offending.

After my walk, I worked on preparing next Tuesday's funeral service, and then recorded tomorrow's Morning Prayer in the attic. After supper an episode of 'Spiral' on catch-up and 'Rebecka Martinson' live on More Four. Another routine sort of week under lock-down grateful to be alive, safe, free to go out and enjoy nature in the heart of the city, and not alone. Even so, I feel a little restless sometimes, and miss being able to go somewhere different for a change.