Spent two and a half hours travelling from central London to Kew Gardens today as engineering works closed a section of the District Line that I wanted to travel on. But the journey by train, bus and foot was worth it (and the £10 entry price) to see the most wonderful collection of orchids. Their beauty was matched only by their fragility and I felt as though I wanted to hold my breath as I wandered around the exhibition.
But my entry today, dear readers, is not about me but my beautiful, if not reckless, son S who ran up and down and in and out paying no heed to petty grown up rules at all. Rope barriers were to be swung on, dirt was to be grabbed, leaves were to be rubbed against a cheek. There was not a moment of vandalism or malicious intent but instead a careless abandon of any civil respect for stuffy, British behaviour. And as I charged around after him apologising to tourists as he slid down steps on his tummy, I wished that I could see the world through his eyes.
But my entry today, dear readers, is not about me but my beautiful, if not reckless, son S who ran up and down and in and out paying no heed to petty grown up rules at all. Rope barriers were to be swung on, dirt was to be grabbed, leaves were to be rubbed against a cheek. There was not a moment of vandalism or malicious intent but instead a careless abandon of any civil respect for stuffy, British behaviour. And as I charged around after him apologising to tourists as he slid down steps on his tummy, I wished that I could see the world through his eyes.
1 comment:
"And as I charged around after him apologising to tourists as he slid down steps on his tummy, I wished that I could see the world through his eyes."
What a wonderful sentence!
Post a Comment