ruminations

[agarttha]

Walking back to work after getting a cappuccino for Patisserie Valerie, where the girls are French and so polite; the coffee was hot and blissful and perfect and so, so good after the muck-you-can-barely-swallow that I get from the staff canteen. The sky was leaden and cloudy, threatening much rain and the plane trees were shedding their last yellowed leaves and the wind was casting the fallen leaves in playful circles. The murmur of easy conversation, the whiz of a passing vehicle, the wind rustling through dries leaves and emptying branches, the Georgian lamp posts, the broad avenues of institutional London, so fair, so quintessentially London in their Victorian/Georgian oldness…
Despite the fact that I was grumpy having achieved nothing all morning, I felt happy. At least for the duration between that realisation and the climb up the stairs and into work.