Walknotes

Monday

The alarm goes off at 6.30am, my eyes open at 7. I look at the curtains and check for light around the edges.

At 7.15 the sky is a muddy glass of water, clearing slowly from the bottom up. A thin, bright strip where the hills meet the sky.

I walk to the wood and skirt round the edges. It’s still dark here – even a leafless canopy blocks out what little light there is while the sun’s busy on the other side of the hill.

I come out of the wood and head for the fields, conscious of slipping in the thick wet mud. Don’t reach for the fence, the barbed wire won’t save you.

Tuesday

Dark, cloudy. An endless ache at the base of my skull. Couldn’t shake it last night, still there this morning.

Wednesday

The light’s so beautiful in town I take a detour just to look. Standing like a tourist missing the main attraction, I look past Monument to the modern building next door and take a photo.

It’s good to be in the city. It’s very quiet.

I get the tube on the way back, watching the messages change on the screens as I head up the escalator. Bold white letters on solid blue. ‘We’re working hard to help you travel safely’. I feel time shift. We’re in the future and it’s not as bright as we expected.

“I’m the only one! I’m the only one listening to ya!” We’re all listening to the health and safety expert take a call on the train. He’s writing up to 4 reports a day, working hard to keep you safe.

Thursday

All over sudden, without further adieu, we’re discussing language. Pacifically speaking, eggcorns. Always a delight (and if you think differently, I’m afraid you’ve got another thing coming).

Team meeting in the afternoon. These used to be on Fridays, every one finishing with ‘have a great weekend!’. They switched to Thursdays some time ago – maybe last September? Every meeting since the day they switched right up to Thursday 16 December has felt like a Friday. You could retrain a dog in less time than it’s taken me to remember that the day following the company meeting isn’t Saturday.

And yet the 2 meetings we’ve had this year have very definitely felt like Thursday meetings. Welcome to 2022. It’s not the weekend yet.

Friday

Open eyes, check for light, choose a bag. Council bags are thicker but I don’t have many left, charity clothes bags are thinner but they have handles, and I have a couple left. How much litter can there be in the park and the hedgerows on the second week of January? I choose the council bag. It’s a good choice. 5 minutes from home and I’ve picked up all the usuals, but also a couple of thick glass bottles. They’re heavy. They’d break a thinner bag.

I cross the road to speak to my favourite morning person. We wish each other happy new year and talk about the cold. I confess I’ve been taking a different route through the woods and fields lately, watching the sun come up and catching the frost. We talk about something and nothing. Laugh, leave with smiles on our faces. Maybe one day we’ll get round to names.

I chat to another chap in the other park. He remembers me from before. He says ‘why can’t people do what we used to do, and put their litter in the hood of the person in front on the bus?’ And then, ‘remember that campaign in the sixties? Keep Britain tidy?’. He pauses, raises his hands to his mouth and says ‘Oh no! I mean…! Of course you don’t. I don’t mean nothin’ by it! I wasn’t saying…’

By the time I drop off the litter it’s making my arm ache. I’d planned to walk through the other fields on the way home as a reward. It’s a good route in the frost. Bright blue in the shadows where the frost clings to the grass. But there’s too much litter and too much chatter and not enough time. So I crunch across a rugby pitch instead.

Saturday

I helped someone with a Medium post this week. They want to write more. They’re following Lauren Currie’s mantra ‘get going and then get good’. Sounds like good advice.

I wish Tumblr was a better platform. It’s easy to start with a small post and build up slowly. Get your confidence, build habits, if that’s what you need. I’ve suggested this to people before and they’ve been horrified. Everyone wants to write a #thoughtleadership post on Medium. But there’s so many thoughts and so little time to read them.

The other plus about writing on Tumblr is that there’s no comments and no stats. Maybe that’s why I’ve got going but never bothered getting good. I don’t really write for other people, because I just can’t see them.