Day 644: Grace and Tea and Crows

The man's face pleased me. He had smiling eyes. He was evidently 'mad', by common standards. On another plane. He had a pair of bluish glass crystals in his hands. He held them up to anyone who'd look (so that means me - everyone else was resolutely looking down, away, off into the distance - anywhere but him). He held one up to his finger like a ring. He did that a few times. The other, he held up to his cheek, and to the light, so it might be caught and lit. He smiled again. I felt love for him and at the same time a quiet hope that he wouldn't attach himself to me or settle in. 

He tried hard to get the attention of the girl on the table next to me in Costa (he was drinking takeout coffee from another place). He knocked on his table, then he knocked again. Her head got lower. He gazed at her and across at the older lady one across. No response. He got out another stone and rapped it on the table, stood up, looked again. Nothing. And then he came to me.

His name was Adrian. He stood a little bit too close. He smiled with is gappy, rotted teeth. He asked my name. Then 'Have you got a number?'. I said no, and then said yes, but not to give. Why not? Because I don't want to. He smiled again and seemed satisfied. He went and sat. Not long after he stood back up, approached and fumbled with his cock (through his trousers, blessedly - I thought he was going to go for a full flash). He was still smiling, though, and still kind of gentle in his energy. I smiled too, a 'oh, not that' kind of smile. He got it, stopped and off he went. Good luck, Adrian. Surprisingly, you kind of made my day.

The counter crew are beautiful today. A man (or boy), probably in his twenties. A little bit beardy, and a little bit brainy-looking. Sweet. On satellite delay. Every question and response was met with a moment's reflection, a disappearing of him. Maybe language. His English was good, and it was evident that he wasn't totally at ease with it. His name was Sara, according to his badge. Is. That in itself was sweet. The girl too - black-haired, with black-lined eyes, tall, soft, elegant and stunning. Friendly in the extreme; enquiring, listening, engaging. I didn't see her name. If I was a boy, or properly that way out, I'd be well smitten. Such attention and such grace in the transaction of a simple cup of tea. 

I stood beneath a shouting crow today. Proper loud, it was. I fancied that it had a message for me. If it did, what would it be? Get on with it! (with what?). You're fine! Get help! I don't know its message, but it felt like words for me. I'll listen harder next time. I'll listen harder now. 

Joanna Brown on Facebook. A photo a day.
What a perfect shot!

The air is full of sunlight and the grass is warm on top and cold below. The water ripples with light as the ice gives in to the morning's light and heat. It bit, on the shoulders today, and on the arms. It left a round patch of red hanging at my throat like a ruby, and yellow in my palms. It left me with that glow, the light in the eyes, the ruddy happiness of the pond. I brought it back to the changing rooms, and then the lady after me did too. It's like something off of Doctor Who. We go through a magic waterfall and come out with a special glow. We recognise each other in the street from it. We share a knowing that only the initiated feel, a physical bliss in every cell that lingers in the body and the mind. 

Thank you, water. Thank you, crow. Thanks, Adrian and Sara and that girl (the Sophie Ellis Bextor meets Billie Piper in black). Thanks, Wednesday.