Now the portcullis has dropped again and we are left to repine whilst the great events of the world happen beyond the moat. My thoughts veer towards what great advance in science do we want to happen next, once a vaccine for Covid has been discovered. The answer is zip fasteners that do not break. The urgency of this increased yesterday when on returning home from our walk, I found the zip on my warm lined walking trousers had broken. So is that why mothers on the Manifold Trail stood between me and their babies and dogs and walkers reversed into hedges and faced away as I passed, giving me more than the regulation two metres?
I now have one pair of trousers, an expensive outdoor jacket, a suitcase, guitar case and dulcimer case all rendered inconvenient or even useless because of shoddy zipmanship. In some cases the teeth have come out in others the pull tab is broken. With some a paper clip threaded through the pull tab will do the job, but one simply cannot enter into elegant society with a paper-clip on ones trousers. Fortunately elegant society is illegal at present; otherwise I would have to consider whether zip repairs constitute essential travel.
Having been immersed in wonder at our red Acer in the front garden these last
few days, and lamenting the fall of its leaves, I hadn’t noticed this aureole of golden foliage in the back garden. We seemed to be rapidly declining into winter, but this is Autumn hanging on. Meanwhile the winter jasmine is in flower and the oranges, reds and yellows of the pyracantha must be a tempting prospect for the birds – but where are they? I’m not wasting good fat-balls turning black if the birds are too fussy and prefer gorging themselves in the woods when we’re locked up in our houses mournfully looking out of the windows for something to watch. A few rooks circling the trees across the road aren’t up to much. Somewhere starlings must be murmurating.
And where are the fireworks, the bonfire toffee and hot dogs, the Christmas plans and winter holidays, kicking leaves with the grandchildren and proper Strictly Come Dancing? A few bangs and cracks and the odd fizz have signalled a fizzling out Guy Fawkes Night, much to the relief of a number of pets. This year we must sparkle and explode on our own, dance in solitude among the leaves and make do with a few croaking rooks.