At 9am the Thunder Started
Radio 4 headlines absorbed, I walk my bruises along the towpath. The canalside air is a warm kiss, the downpour pure espresso. After Belfast, Dorset and broken toes, this is the first time in three weeks I have actually fulfilled my boyfriend duty to get and the papers and milk.
It is not the rain that keeps me close to canal today. There is a natural indolent gravity to the Three Bridge Kingdom when you feel under the weather in every way. It is easy to wait for the barge which serves as a mobile shop to chug passed. I can buy beer for the batter at the end of the road, pick rain-washed rosemary from the towpath.
Night comes. I cook sausage toad and roasted vegetables for four, pour wine. I am surrounded by friendship, laughter and love. There are no greater forces to bind me to this place than those.
Labels: Canalside, Rosemary, Sausage Toad, Three Bridge Kingdom
