Not really

Not really. That would be my response if you asked me whether I like geraniums.  I have no answer for why I now have several ruddy great bushes of the jolly plants growing in my one flower bed, except to say that I knew that they would grow in that dry and very sunny spot.


Not really is also what I would be likely to say if you asked me whether I was happy to be wide awake at 4.30 am without the help of an alarm clock, when today is a partial day off for me, in anticipation of the slog which is coming my way next week.

The camera with its flash captures an image of the flower that I do not see. What I see are numerous dull red ball-like flowers in the dawn half-light. My motivation for taking these photos was complex: it had to do with neglecting to capture the glory of the lemon yellow day lilies during the five days they flowered. So here are the geraniums, despite my dislike of them.  My grandmother swore that they kept snakes away.

Ah! That reminds me of my walk the other day in the middle of a hot afternoon.  I saw a snake which, if stretched out, would have been at least a metre long. It was sunning itself in a concrete culvert. It was a dull khaki yellow colour with a faint hint of a light blue streak or two around its head. You will have to take my word for it, for I did not have my camera or smartphone with me. I did not stop to peer at it, but merely slowed down my pace as I walked past it to get a better look.

Very soon after that, I noticed a pair of black and white running shoes on the grass beneath a tree and behind the communal dustbin.  The shoes, a British size 5 or 6, were in good condition, and positioned in the way they would be if you arrived home, say, and kicked off your shoes as you walked through the door, without stopping to tidy them up. I half expected the person to whom the shoes belonged to be close by, so I peered around the low wall surrounding the communal dustbin. There was no one there, but there was something even more curious: a new-looking ironing board lying flat on the ground.

At that point, I began to wonder what I would see next. I am quite disappointed to say that the remaining kilometre before I arrived home was uneventful.

Is that a proper story? Not really, but it could be.

©2018 Allison Wright

3 thoughts on “Not really

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    1. I suppose I was thinking of the possibilities of fabricating a story from the track shoes and ironing board. As to the random nature of life, my efforts to apply order in all manner of places fail daily. I wonder why the persistence!

      Liked by 1 person

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