The first week in my new job and the rain was back, just when I thought we might have seen the last of it. Ironically, as I was now working for a bus company, there were no busses passing my new office. It was too wet to walk the whole one and three quarter miles though so I used my shiny new bus pass for the first time to get across the Big Bridge. At least that was the coldest, wettest part out of the way.
27 March 2014
Today I used my new bus pass for the first time to avoid some of the rain. Actually I was half afraid the bus driver wouldn’t accept it. I’m not sure why. He did though. The bus didn’t go all the way to my new office but it did take me across the bridge. All that was left was the walk to the river and across the boardwalk. There’s a tiny, rather desolate park between the road and the industrial estate. It was full of pigeons hunched up against the rain looking glum. I knew how they felt. On the river the hippie ship was half submerged by the tide, its ribs just visible inside the hull. The rain was coming down hard and I pulled the collar of my coat up against the cold. Then, shivering, I marched across the wet boardwalk.
The rain carried on all morning, I could see it teaming down through the office window. At lunchtime I walked down to the cut price supermarket and this time I went inside. Thankfully it wasn’t busy and I picked up a box of tissues for my desk, a must have item on a rainy day for a glasses wearer like me. Apart from that there was nothing much to report, just emails to answer, things to investigate. Not all that interesting second hand.
By the time I left work today the sun had decided to put in an appearance. A little late in the day but still better late than never. I decided to take the Cobden bridge route because I’d walked along the boardwalk this morning. The golden glow of sunset was beginning to appear as I crossed the bridge and the little ships tied up on the wharf were bathed in it. The buildings, reflected in the river glowed too.
Looking back across the bridge I got a glimpse of the almost sunset. With the clocks going forward on Sunday it will probably be the last for a while, at least on my walk home. The Triangle clock has never looked so good, as if an alchemist has been at work turning the grey stone to gold. It stands on an island in the middle of the busy road so I had to stand a while and wait for a gap in the traffic to capture it.
As I reached the bottom of the Big Hill, by the railway station, I got one final glimpse of the setting sun apparently caught in the branches of the big tree on the corner. It may not be the spectacular vista spread out from the penthouse suite but it’s the best I can do these days.
Please see my copyright information before you copy or use any of the above words or pictures.