St. Nicholas Park, Warwick

...on a Sunday after church. We stay at a hotel, and so have to find somewhere else to eat our sandwiches:

Queuing for food:

Fearless leader:
and Ultimate! (on Saturday of course):

A beautiful bony-faced, white-haired, blue-eyed man (with a beard) stopped his bicycle to ask what we are doing here. He said he is measuring the distance from here to Kenilworth Castle for a bicycle race. He said he is a retired teacher of engineering. Every time John would get distracted or walk around the little enclosure away from him, he would say, “Well, I’ll let you get on with it,” but he would stay if I asked a question. I think he was lonely. I think old people are often lonely and want to talk, and younger people don’t pay attention to them—often see right through them. And yet they are human and interesting—more interesting in many ways than the young ones—they’ve had more experience.

It is so cold, my fingers are freezing. A couple of squirrels are considering a commando raid on the remains of the food. I have a half-eaten Mars Bar in my pocket, my temporary home is less than a mile away, the sun is going down, and all is well. (2005)