Rain before seven fine before eleven. Well, not quite, but the rain diminished to an occasional drizzle in the afternoon, but there were few breaks in the cloud. Not much encouragement to go out or do much else in the morning, but a good walk in the park in the afternoon.
I was disappointed to see a terrible mess on the grass on the site where I'd seen yesterday's grand picnic. Rubbish had been collected, half a dozen bin bags of it, and left by a rubbish bin, but a combination of gulls scenting food to scavenge and strong gust of wind broke open the bags and strewed it across the road and over a field which had been left tidy. The party would have finished hours after the Council waste bin collection had passed by, so it was there all night until the end of Saturday afternoon, when the next round of bin emptying took place.
If only people would go the extra mile and take their rubbish bags home with them. If only the Council still employed park keepers to monitor large gatherings, and groups of youngsters partying in the fields leaving dozens of cider cans and plastic bottles behind, and firmly remind park users of their civic duty.
When I got back, I continued reading the last section of 'La Sombra del Viento' more than fifty pages, at a slow pace, to make sure I understood key elements of the novel's conclusion. I finished at eleven and then printed off tomorrow's sermon before going to bed, pondering on a lengthy and complex narrative, which was essentially a detective story about the vanished literary works of a Catalan author, who had disappeared, as did all his published books, all except a small handful retained by collectors. Over 450 pages, and well worth the read.
No comments:
Post a Comment