creating your own reality

It was going to rain for several days according to the weather forcast so it was a priority to go  to the allotment this morning to retrieve what was left of my rapidly rotting onions and shallots. They were looking wonderful a month ago but care of onions slipped down the priority list and the poppies took over -  seductively as poppies do, looking harmlessly pretty and harbouring white rot in the crop below.

     

So I dug and delved, the weed pile growing higher and the onions emerging, unripe but mostly still healthy. It was hard work - there were lots of other jobs too and a race against the weather to pick fruit, cut lavender and chamomile, rosebuds and petals for drying, courgettes and salad and a bunch of sweet peas for a  favourite Friday afternoon client.    Packing it all into my ancient shopping trolley (cool!) and a rucksack, I woke up the dog and we started for home.  The path is narrow, brambly and precariously runs along the riverbank with treeroots and sundry rubbish making an assault course for my tottering burden so the sound of voices was the last thing I wanted to hear.  This is the territory of the disposessed and desperate - often of altered conciousness, sometimes violent so my first reaction was fear and annoyance. The voices were excited, quite young and getting closer as I approached the difficult gate with an 'eager' collie and my onions. It was then that I made a concious decision to project  a really positive and accepting greeting to this unseen 'threat'. As I turned into the stony lane and approached the bridge, my 'threat' came into view - a young woman, with a shopping trolley similar to mine but full of toys, sitting  on the stone bridge with her bare feet dangling inches above the water eating a pasty and chattering away to herself, earphones dangling and a huge grin across her face.   Suddenly the trolley rolled easily, the dog stopped pulling on his lead and my heart was glad for this funny little moment in my busy day. We smiled and  said how nice the water feels on hot feet and I knew that I was the fool.