online: 13 june 2016
modified: 3 june 2016
3 june 2016 new start from highest
point
a cold evening but all vegetation is growing strongly... the distant
city towers are hidden in smog or mist... and while walking with
(alpine) walking poles i no longer feel sciatic pain...
...the rooftops of the village look highly artificial amongst the
surrounding trees... (when all else is misty uniformity)...
...now a few red warning lights show through the mist... the air is
practically still... traffic sounds far seem far away... i've not yet
seen anyone walking here today (cold weather?)... though the moment
could be as significant as any...
...waiting with feet on sand... among many pine cones... as a tiny
insect (no larger than a grain of sand) moves across the touchscreen...
and images of all the smallest pieces of the earth... the universe... the
world... come to mind...
...then suddenly there appears Hal Goldie (a heathwalking friend with dogs)...
last time i saw him he was half-recovered from motor accident (with
several broken bones)... but now (a year or so later) he's full of
life...and talk of life... describing a crossing of the Bay of Biscay
(very rough at edge of continental shelf)... in a 10' metre sailing boat
(with engine)... he plunges into describing and enacting the physical difficulty of
cooking and of navigating on a violently moving platform...
and now he's off to play guitar with a famous group of
instrumentalists... in the next day or two... but i've already forgotten
their name... and now suddenly Hal's gone... perhaps the liveliest man
in the city forest...
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