The ups and downs of a walk into town on a miserable winter’s day

Her spirits were subdued as she set off to walk into town beneath low oppressive clouds. She side-stepped the puddles under the railway bridge, grimacing at the noise and exhaust fumes of the passing cars.

Emerging from the gloom she looked up to see a magpie flying along the rooftop of the building on the other side of the road. It was carrying a bulky twig, almost as long as its own body. Suddenly, the twig fell and she felt momentarily sad for the bird, but within seconds it had landed and taken off with the bulky twig back in its beak. She watched it fly to a nearby tree. The branches were bare, the tallest of them swaying in the chilly wind and there at the top was a large nest. The magpie flew through the branches, placed the twig into the bottom of the nest, then quickly flew off to find another one. My life isn’t so different, she thought; all work and no play.

Cutting through the blocks of flats, towards the large Church, she heard a single bell start to ring. She counted as she walked… 9… 10… 11… 12? She was confused, She was sure it should be 11 o’clock. 13… 14… 15… strange. It was a doleful sound. Maybe it’s cracked, she thought, and the repair man is testing it out. On the corner she saw a lady with her head bowed, holding a hanky to her nose as she talked on her phone. Was it a breakup? Was it a cold? She gave her a wide berth, silently bemoaning the tiresome task of having to avoid so many germs.

As she walked on past the church she came face to face with a hearse. She stood back to let it pass and read ‘Brother’ and ‘Son’ in flowered wreaths. A cavalcade of large black cars followed slowly by, Mercedes, BMW, Range Rover. She registered the shapes of heads and shoulders behind the blackened windows before averting her eyes.

Now she knew she was listening to a funeral bell she looked at people differently. She focussed on the solemn faced young man walking towards her; white shirt, black tie, three-quarter-length black winter coat. She decided he must be another mourner going to pay his respects. She recalled the lady with the hanky. She could have been a mourner too, not a flu victim, that made more sense.

As she continued her walk into town she noticed that she was surrounded by people rushing this way and that, most looking stressed or fed up. She resolved to be more considerate, not to be in such a rush to get past, not to be so irritated. Every one of them had their own trials and tribulations. She should be kind, she thought, we should all be kind to each other.

She pondered on how our assumptions dictate our reactions and yet how often those assumptions are wrong. She remembered a work colleague who, on one particularly frustrating day, had exclaimed very loudly to a startled office, “Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups!” She was referring to the mess made by some inaccurate information that she was having to sort out but it’s an observation that is true on many levels. She’d quoted it herself many times over the years. She resolved to make less assumptions, to be more perceptive, more aware of her surroundings, more understanding.

She only had two shops to visit and was soon on her way back. The bags were heavy, the wind had picked up and she soon found herself feeling slightly miserable again. She was overheating in her layers and had to keep stopping to adjust the bags. As she approached the church she heard the sound of the bells, a downward peel but a bit too cheerful she thought. Maybe the bell ringers were trying to give the departed soul a good send off. She imagined the people on their way to the graveyard and for a moment remembered their grief.

Crossing the bridge over the river, on the final stretch of her journey, something caught her eye. She let the heavy bags drop to the paving stones with relief and watched the seagulls washing themselves in the river below. She always enjoyed seeing them do this, it made her smile. One young speckled gull was making more splashes than the others and she laughed out loud to see him roll right over, his two large feet flapping away in mid-air for at least four seconds before righting himself. Then he did it again!

Still laughing, she picked up her bags, which seemed a little lighter, and made her way home. She stopped to watch the sun setting behind the trees in the park. For a few moments, salmon pink, dusky blue and orange layers of light filled the sky. My life isn’t so bad, she thought.