Days getting shorter.
Late afternoon walk to Richmond.
It’s been a bit eerie around London lately. The beanies, gloves and scarves are still on the shelf.
By now I should be a black widow, nothing but black tights and Barbour black when stepping outside, but the unusually balmy weather, glorious sunshine and level of general contentment leads to singular conversation of just how jolly wonderful the weather is!
Perhaps I have jinxed it now and the fog of Dickens will descend without warning. It did this morning and ‘damp’ is all around.
Trying to avoid the city at night - the Christmas lights are on. There is no place like London for Christmas though I prefer to delight in the lights in December, not November. Need something to look forward to. Retailers are concerned about the high cost of living and my family are cutting back on presents this year - just heard that ‘Joules’, they of the upmarket gumboots, is going into administration. Businesses closing at an alarming rate and Oxford Street quite changed. Will you still have the Christmas of past, or are you too trying to cope with cost of current living?
My men family are sprouting moustaches for Movember. Amury, from ‘The Chateau Diaries’ has a particular take on the tradition this month. ‘Escape to the Chateau’ is my weekly treat, light relief from all the dark history I fall into most hours of the day.
An early morning chat with FDR and Churchill.
The tours have slowed down for the season, though Churchill, The London Spy Walk and now, the Christmas Tours are busy. Early morning walks from Notting Hill, through Hyde Park, ‘hello ducks, hello swans’ and a hot coffee from Ole and Steen. Bracing, time to ‘think walk’ and prepare for the tours. Early morning in London still fascinates - no crowds for selfies, just cleaners, pigeons and a few early risers. Me going over dates and notes, the eyes forever finding new details to explore.
Complaining about the cold is not an issue for me, but after so many years in London, I still struggle with the early evenings. Dark closing in at four thirty in the afternoon, black cloak of night at six. It takes resistance of the French kind, not to tuck into chocolates and something with mash and lashings of gravy to comfort the soul. Some of my friends go to bed shortly after seven and I think, where were the days we resented our parents sending us to bed early?
Before I leave this morning, the laughter of children on their way to school in the square is a fine reminder of the joy that is out there - overthinking tends to mar the day. Rain and ochre leaves speak of poets who embraced such things and turned them to jewelled words. I am a poet in longing but can at least delight in the stories the city will deliver today.
Have a beautiful walk today.