post-impressionism

i don’t think i recognise you

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Rainbow

 

24jan_2.jpg‘A rainbow spoke to me.’ This sentence came into my thoughts. It took me by surprise. I left it there for a while. I was on my way through to the cafe from the pool. Today was my first swim in a couple of weeks; I’ve been in bed with flu. Last night I went off to sleep going through the motions of my swim (this is a ritual I do every night before a swim or a cycle, I even used to do it all those years ago when I played squash). When I woke this morning I felt refreshed. As my morning preparation went on I kept an open mind whether I’d manage to have my swim or not. If I didn’t, I would still go to the cafe at the pool to take in the ambience. But here I am writing up my journal in the cafe after an excellent swim. I took it very easy and enjoyed the process of gliding through the water, gently pulling, turning, and gliding again. It was absolutely wonderful. At this moment I am wallowing in ecstasy after the misery of flu.

It is growing dark outside, though it is not yet one o’clock. The wind and rain are adding to the experience inside my head sitting inside this cosy cafe. My thoughts wandered again to, ‘A rainbow spoke to me.’ Where did that come from? I am not sentimental to the myriad of beliefs concerning them. A kid banging into my table breaks my concentration nearly spilling my coffee. The cafe is busy. There are lots of kids, some with bored looking grannies others with long hair and the untidy style of a certain middle-class type (these are simply observations not statements). The disruption didn’t bother me. I guess I must be riding that rainbow!

(When I wrote the first sentence I had no idea where it would take me.)