May morning
We totally made it through the night: me and Spiky Neil playing Worms and Puzzle Bobble, and then oxfordgirl joining us for the ritual viewing of The Wicker Man, and by then it was 4am and time to start phoning people like redkitty23 and stompyboots to chivvy them up and out for meeting at the tower.
It rained, but the freshness was perfect, and we walked in clutching sprigs of cherry blossom, me feeling more alive and alert than I think I've ever felt on May morning before, despite having been in such a state of extreme tiredness on Saturday that I was seriously afraid I was about to suffer internal organ failure or something.
And we had the best spot ever, right at the base, and when the Hymnus Eucharisticus rang out, I gazed up through the rain at the impossibly looming tower, held my blossom aloft and felt the hush and the still and the awakening summer all around me, and remembered all the previous times and the powerful magic of the morning and cried softly to think I might never be there again.
And then it was a damp picnic and dancers in the Radcliffe Camera Square, and some guy taking pictures of me and oxfordgirl laughing and waving our blossoms, and a physical manifestation of Apollo, and champagne and free hot chocolate and giggling at the extreme spaced-outness of stompyboots, edling and Cat WINOLJ.
And then it was home, and crash and burn, and my fingers feel like putty now on the keyboard. I think I may possibly need to sleep for a very long time, very, very soon.
But I'm so glad I did it, because I LOVE OXFORD. And it tears my heart to think I must leave it all behind. :(
This post brought to you by sleep deprivation and Piper Heidseick champagne.
It rained, but the freshness was perfect, and we walked in clutching sprigs of cherry blossom, me feeling more alive and alert than I think I've ever felt on May morning before, despite having been in such a state of extreme tiredness on Saturday that I was seriously afraid I was about to suffer internal organ failure or something.
And we had the best spot ever, right at the base, and when the Hymnus Eucharisticus rang out, I gazed up through the rain at the impossibly looming tower, held my blossom aloft and felt the hush and the still and the awakening summer all around me, and remembered all the previous times and the powerful magic of the morning and cried softly to think I might never be there again.
And then it was a damp picnic and dancers in the Radcliffe Camera Square, and some guy taking pictures of me and oxfordgirl laughing and waving our blossoms, and a physical manifestation of Apollo, and champagne and free hot chocolate and giggling at the extreme spaced-outness of stompyboots, edling and Cat WINOLJ.
And then it was home, and crash and burn, and my fingers feel like putty now on the keyboard. I think I may possibly need to sleep for a very long time, very, very soon.
But I'm so glad I did it, because I LOVE OXFORD. And it tears my heart to think I must leave it all behind. :(
This post brought to you by sleep deprivation and Piper Heidseick champagne.