On the train I talked with a Frenchman who told me he was born there during the war and that his health was perhaps affected by drinking milk diluted with water (because of the shortages). He'd lived here for much of his life... We talked of many things... When we parted he said 'take good care'.
Once off the train I could hear someone playing Over the sea to Skyeon a simple flute or 'tin whistle'. He played it slowly, almost like Shaku Hachi music (I'm not sure how you spell it) - starting each note as if it were a new piece of music. I remember my father singing this song - and also other Scottish songs and lullabies. I went to speak to him: to tell him of this and that I liked the way he played. He was tall and upright and looked as if his ancestors came from West Africa.
Near to where I am writing this a woman and a man are making and photographing a construction of twigs and fallen leaves.
All these things - and this writing - I'm seeing them as examples of the 'connecting of the perceived world with the perceiving mind' - of which I've just been reading in Charles Sherrington's Man on his Nature.*He suggests that making this connection could be the purpose of human life!
Now I go to look at the construction of leaves and twigs and to move on while there is still sunshine.
A ring of 25 twigs stuck in the ground - surrounded by a ring of brown leaves - and a green leaf in the centre.
...perceiving mind and the perceived world... Nature in evolving us makes them two parts of the knowledge of one mind and that mind our own. We are the tie between them. Perhaps we exist for that.