Surge

There’s a storm surge as I write, but there are also surges of love, for example.

At the weekend I saw a very, very small child walking down the road with what I took to be a grandparent. They stuck out because they were walking so slowly, because the child was so very small. The grandparent paced her steps to suit. It made me stop and look because it’s not what you see often, on the street. Children just starting to walk are strapped down, front-facing pushed along at buggy speed – adult pace.

Then the grandparent stopped and dropped down on to her haunches. She then produced a handkerchief and dabbed the child’s nose. I never saw such attention to detail, so much care and concern given, so much love in wiping a nose. And then they carried on walking very, very slowly down the street.

It’s those moments that make life seem real. I was thinking this week that the trees have hung onto their leaves for a long time this year. The pavement the child and grandparent and myself were walking down was thick with them. I suppose today’s surging wind and rain will account for the yellowing remainder of them, still hanging on.

tree

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Posted on December 5, 2013, in Be not idle. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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