online: 31 may 2018
modified: 5 april 2018

5 april 2018 a day in early spring

gorse and daffodils in vivid bloom... warmer air and dry... but cold wind to the touch... first sight this year of details of distant tall buidings visible several miles away... and glad to be able to walk on previously muddy paths... already becoming drier and safer ... all this discerned from the highest seat...

the wind having become almost still for a few minutes i have the brief impression that spring is indeed here (and the days of winter struggle are over)

but now the wind blows and cold hands provoke me to rise... and to walk to next the destination... which may be warmer

on the way through a surprising pathway (set amongst the highest branches of trees set on a steep, near vertical, slope)... i remarked (to an elderly walker) on the welcome dryness of the muddy paths today... to which she replied and when you're going downhill it's no joke...

eventually i reached the bookshop-cafe but was too late for a hot drink... instead could have a glass of cold water... which i drank while reading the beginning of Paul Austers New York Trilogy... how is it i've read so few of his works?... they seem to be full of liberating attempts at a fiction fit for the 20-21st century...

...the first few pages include an imaginary detective, an imaginary writer of the novel (who is both a fictional character and the actual Paul Auster plus their imaginary agents ) or am i already misreading the complexity?... probably yes...

but even if incorrect this portrayal is enough perhaps to reveal the submersion of the novel in what could be called imaginary fiction (over-flowing with Cartesian doubts and liberation from fictional certitudes (from which the writer of this diary jumps into a new kind of fiction here and now... he hopes!)


© 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 john chris jones

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