I took the last of my chrysanthemums onto the city walls and enjoyed the childish pleasure of strolling along a footpath with flowers. I was pointing the plant at the ground as if it was perfectly natural for a left arm to be botanically extended, passing a few mundane tourists on the pretty section between Bootham bar and Monk bar. It was at the corner between the two gates that I encountered the old woman dressed in a simple coat and wearing a beanie. I felt the flowers lift into my right hand at the precise moment that I noticed how brightly the sun was shining. So my "good morning" was sincere, and her reply was only slightly suspicious. "For you," I confirmed, for which she graciously thanked me, accepted the gift and continue her walk towards Bootham. I felt a surge of loveliness even before I imagined her passing the tourists that I had overtaken with my conspicuous flowers. So my morning doubts disintegrated, and I recognised the vital importance of place.
...for a woman in a beanie - 2012: a year of stopping
11 January 2006 @ 12:00 am
...for a woman in a beanie