There are a lot of pleasingly synchronous and serendipitous reasons to living where I live. My god Gerald Durrell and family lived in the grounds of the hotel just up the road both pre- and post-Corfu; Norwood is where Dora lived in David Copperfield, my favourite of the Dickens novels... Beulah (as in Hill, my road) is where the stolen FA Cup was found by Pickles the dog; um... I've always liked crystals and palaces... It's my kind of place and those tiny associations make my heart beat just a little faster.
Aannyway, the above picture of Norwood Common just a couple of minutes walk away is nothing particularly special and no different to anyone else's snow pics, except that I have just emailed it to myself from my new phone. And that, dear reader, means today has been a veritable triumph. I may have completed two very different pieces of copy. I may have cooked a delicious, thrifty lunch and I may well finish the 4th Henning Mankell Wallander novel today (I do love Ken's rendition but goodness they're abridged), but this - this - caps it all. My technological joy knows no bounds. What unfortunately the camera doesn't capture is the peculiar, bleached, Swedish, BBC Wallander-esque light that made me stop and stare and feel like I was at the end of the world.
Now if I can just capture the green parakeet and the redwing thrush that are feasting on the wild cherries by the kitchen window, I really will be flying.
No comments:
Post a Comment