Day 362: I Done A Spell

Thank God for Nikki Allen - in so many ways. Number one, today, was that she got me to the pond, simply by being where she was. She was at the Hub. That got my sorry arse out of my room and onto my bike and ultimately, to the pond. 

And oh, the pond. When I arrived, the sky was grey and there was a lightish drizzle. It was relatively warm. I stuck my head into the changing rooms but there were so many women in there, I went back outside. I changed, went back in for hot water in my gloves and socks and by the time I got out, the rain was proper heavy. There was one lady left in the pond, but she was on her way out, giggling a bit. 

I got in... the rain was busy and frantic. All the drops different sizes. Bubbles on the surface and a little bit of wind. It was confusing to my head. I swam and laughed. I brought myself back to being present with the water and the environment when I offed and upped and dreamt. And then... I noticed loads and loads of leaves leaping off the trees at one end of the pond. The ducks had gathered and posted their heads along their backs, nuzzled into wings. The wind was coming. From the far end of the pond, a cloud of leaves appeared, like starlings at dusk. They dipped and dived above the water. 

I widened my gaze and saw the trees at the far end of the pond thrashing and leaning, their leaves lifting and spinning in huge curls across the water. The surface was almost covered in bronze and beech. It felt like they were spinning around me, in the eye of the storm. The rain was still pounding. It was magical. One of the lifeguards came out and said 'Have you done a spell in the pond?'. I said yes, of course. Maybe, maybe, maybe I had.

So wet by the time I got to Islington, I was soaked. Still am, in fact. The wind makes me giddy, though, so I was a bit laughy. Even more so when I got there and met Nikki and her lovely friend Doug. We laughed and laughed, mostly at the word 'pony'. And lots of other things. It's great, isn't it, to laugh until your face hurts and you can't make a proper noise or really breathe. That's very good. I like it. My soul like it. My face? Well, it's all part of becoming a good old wrinklechops with proper smile lines, isn't it? 


So good just to catch up with her too. Very nice indeed. Lucky bastard (me).