Summer meets Autumn.

I'm a Summer girl, really. So I've been loving the heat wave this week. It appears I'm not the only one either - I finally made it to my favourite park today with a camera, and took a few sneaky shots of the public's enjoyment of the heat.
So here is South Park in the sun:


A slightly wonky shot of the famous spires - sorry about that, guys.


Some beautiful colour in those trees.


People enjoying the shade under said trees...


Lens flare, woot!


A rather dramatic catch from the guy in the blue shorts - I felt like I should have been applauding, but that would have drawn attention to the fact I was taking their picture.


Beautiful shadows stretched across the grass...


I feel like putting in this photo is bad form, seeing as it's vertical instead of horizontal, but I like it, so the OCD people out there will have to make do :P


And a final full shot of the park from the top of the main hill. How I love this space.

Now I've shown you the Summer, let me tell you the Autumn. Walking along the grass barefoot (of course, why wear shoes?) I came across a patch that had been blanketed with the dried flames of crisp fallen leaves. If you have never shuffled barefoot through a layer of Autumn leaves on a bright green carpet of soft grass, you have not experienced life to the full. I would recommend this experience especially for those of us who specially walk close to the wall so they can crackle through drifts of leaves on the pavement, or find themselves walking the street funny because they want to crunch a leaf under their foot with every step. Yes, I'm talking to you...

Meet Mister Squirrel.

We made friends in Christ Church Meadows. He is veeery cute.

Pre-Birthday-Surprise-Party-Special.

I have the most beautiful friends.
So my birthday is coming up. Kinda an important one, actually. Milestone being marked, and all that. And yet, after the five-month planning, and four-day party and celebration of last year’s birthday, I sadly had precious little planning energy this year. A get together with all my girls was in order, yes! But half of us have started new jobs. A couple were on holiday, or staying in their Uni places. Complications, complications, complications. My sister and two of my girlfriends kept saying, “What are you going to do? What are you going to plan?” And I found myself saying, “Ohhh, I don’t know. Maybe someone else could plan it this year, I just can’t be bothered to get my head round people’s dates and all that,” with a sadly childish pout on my face. Did I think anyone else would step up to the mark and start making the plans? Course not! It’s a momentous task! If I had not the willpower to work at it, how could I expect someone else to?
July 16th, the earache started. Ow. The amount of messages and commands to get better very soon were gratifying. July 18th, my first ever doctors appointment, my first ear infection, and my very first antibiotics prescription. The hurrahs for drugs and getting-well-ness were pleasing. July 20th, I’m feeling slightly better, and no longer like my head’s going to implode with pain whenever I sit up, and the cheering on of my recovery continued. I felt so loved…
July 21st. A bad day for me. I was tired, grouchy, emotional. Still in some pain. My sister tided my room for me while I was in the shower. My mum kept telling me to just go back to bed to rest instead of moping round the house, pretending I could be helpful with something. The doorbell rings, and mum yells at me to answer it, and I trudge to the door. And there on the doorstep are my sister and three of my girlfriends, dressed to the nines, smiles on their faces and a big bunch of red roses held out in front of them.
Apparently, this had taken a month to plan. To get all my girls together in one place. My illness had meant that the dinner out that was also planned had to be postponed, but we went to my friend’s house where the other girls were waiting, had a picnic in the park on cushions, and spent the rest of the evening and night half-asleep in front of a good many films. A birthday celebration tailored to the unwell. It was beautiful. A pre-birthday surprise party that was full of special <3

The Park of South.

I remember, when our family first started talking about moving house last year, we started discussing what we’d want in the new house. My sister said her own room. My mum said a bigger kitchen. My dad said an extra room to use as an office. My youngest sister wanted a garden big enough to house our trampoline. My brother just needed more space. I didn’t care. All of that sounded lovely, sure, but I didn’t want to think about what I wanted in a house. Because to do that was to admit we were moving. And if you start asking for something in particular, you are more likely to be disappointed. I said nothing when these discussions popped up.
But there was one thing I did want. Tucked away in the back of my head, there was this one tiny little part of me that just repeatedly said, “Let us move closer to South Park.”

Our new house. Everyone has their own room. A kitchen diner twice the size of our previous. An office for dad. A decent garden for the trampoline. And space, space, space. And it’s 15minutes closer to South Park. A gift.

I took a walk to the park yesterday evening. It only takes at most 10mins to get to the top of the park now. The sun was starting to set behind the trees. It cast elongated shadows across the grass. The park had a strange other-wordly feel about it. It was completely empty. From the top of the hill, the shadows cast by the trees at the edges of the park weren’t visible, and the leaves didn’t even shiver in the slight breeze, making them appear as if they had been photoshopped in on top of the strangely bright grass, reminiscent, somehow, of the main room in Willy Wonka’s factory. Seagulls with dusty-black heads strutted in pairs, their jerky movements making them seem robotic and toy like. When I saw one fly off, it did so laboriously, as if unaccustomed to the effort. Three partly deflated balloon perched, stranded, on one of the top branches of a tree. They hung like oversized, exotic fruits against the dark green.

The park has so many different… characters. Somehow. This is why I didn’t want to miss it. Give me a camera, world, and I’ll document its changing life.

Sweet summer Rec

Ten pence apple pie. An icecream apiece;
sticky sweet fingers and chocolate cold tongues.
Tarmac-hot air swirls around our bare arms.
Park sat on cricket mat. Watch them boys stare;
a football kicked high and six pack showed off.
The first drops of rain land on open palms.