I love shopping, a disturbing admission for
a man. Let me clarify, I’m not talking about clothes. That I abhor. I’m happy
with what I’ve got until my wife points out they’ve largely disintegrated. Then
it’s a brief foray out and then home.
No, I’m talking about food-shopping, the
last residual shadow of man, the primitive hunter – or in my case, man with an
appetite. What adds piquancy to the
twice weekly event is the nearly two mile walk into Monmouth – the same walk
but one that changes with the seasons.
Summer, a view from Osbaston Road
Autumn. Vauxhall Field and a glimpse of the River Monnow
Autumn, the Monnow and a glimpse of Vauxhall field.
Winter, Vauxhall Field and St Mary's Church
Winter, Vauxhall Field and St Mary's Church touched by God.
Uh, uh. Something's brewing. (My Turner moment)
Snow!
Snow, however, is the big event, and its
effect on people is weird. People walk for starters, they have to, and greet
each other like comrades in arms, as though we’ve just weathered another night
of the blitz. Earnest conversations
ensue as to whether there is still milk in Waitrose. If only Napoleon’s
soldiers had it so good on their retreat from Moscow. And yes there was milk in
Waitrose. There’s always milk in Waitrose. Waitrose will have milk come the
Apocalypse. Tesco, I’m not so sure about.
Osbaston Road. The trudge into town
A cold looking River Monnow
Crossing the Monnow.
Vauxhall Field and St Mary's
People!
No People
But then comes the thaw and the ‘walkers’
vanish, and a new season begins.
Soon be spring.
3 comments:
I don't mind trekking into town but I'm not sure I'd like to be trudging back with groceries. You're made of hardy stock, Keyton.
On this occasion, Bernadette trekked with me, and it was tough because the walk back is up a series of hills. I confess, when the weather is good, I walk down and get the bus back (it drops me off outside our door) The call me 'Bag-lady' because I'm laden with three large plastic bags in each hand. If I'm at the back of the bus the occasional passenger will get clunked on the head with a bag holding bottles or tins, as I navigate my way down to the exist :)
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