Wailing

No moon this morning. Full dark. And rain. It is a challenge stepping out into it. The Prom was inundated with students whose merriment is alien to my mood. They don’t see the bleakness. Why should they? Up to all sorts of capers, they lollop on benches, shout, dart and snog. Two lads were clambering over the metal railings of the children’s sandpit, late paddling pool due to a surfeit of sea water left behind by big spring tides. Another lad walking past hollered at them. Who is it? one of the clamberers shouted back, I can’t see you. A girl was wailing outside Pier Pressure. A wailing then a low moaning. She was lying on the ground with several of her friends around her. Two policemen stood behind their van, seemingly unconcerned. Was she OK? I heard one of her friends say that they’d called an ambulance. And lo, there it was dashing to the scene. The ambulance medics and the police must get jaded by it all. All the excess, the high spirits, the chaos of youth. I have forgotten what it was like, if it ever was like that for me.

He seems more cheery this morning. Life is busy. More work is coming in, we both like it that way. There is an energy that cuts through the listlessness of the coming winter. He likes a project and so do I. But not too much. Too much and it begins to feel out of my control. All will be well. I will get it all done. I always do.

I look out of the window and morning is coming. Just. A tinge of blue. Thank god. Sometimes it feels like it is never going to come.

Oranges for breakfast after two days of rice (one meal of millet just to break the monotony). They were lovely. I really tasted them but the fullness soon goes. Time for a drink, something warming. Dandelion and honey perhaps. No coffee yet. Or tea. Next week. I can wait. How glorious it will taste then. I like this simplicity. It suits me, it always has.

May there be peace today.