At about the same place, and probably the same time, the following day,saturday,( today would be different, it was the start of the weekend, i wouldn't go to bed until nightfall,and i was planning to go into town, i need a bow saw ), Suddenly i was startled by the loud caw'cawing of a big black carion crow perched on a tv. aerial close by, which actually seemed to be directed towards me. Noisy devil i thought.
After a short respite at home, wolfing down a bowl of porridge and a mug of tea and glossing over the sportsmail pages, i was soon back at my bus-stop, going into town. There was a young woman, nothing "stand-outish" about her, she was wearing a purple coat, she, and the coat, had caught my eye that's all, i don't know why.
Minutes passed,and soon i was on my way,upstairs on a double decker heading into town, and reading my newspaper. In little more than the blink of an eyelid, my mobile kicked off, i'd fallen asleep, it was my sister, saying something about the offer of a chain-saw. I tried to compose my thoughts "err'yeah," i mumbled, looking out of the bus window i could see my destination racing towards me, how weird is that? A wake up call, out of the blue, at precisely the right time."yes,thank you, i'll call you when i get back. I'm sorry, can't talk now. Later. Bye!"
Mulling over the happy,strange coincidence of that phone-call, i headed for B&Q, they'd have a selection of bow saws, for sure. As i walked, i found myself noticing purple. Young women, in trendy clothes.Purple trendy clothes. Parkas, Anoraks, a Duffel Coat even. And shop-fronts, purple, why purple? Why this sudden fixation? From then on, i was looking out for any person that might have purple hair. It didn't happen. I wasn't long in B&Q, and having found the required implement, made my way back into town.
And then suddenly, as i ambled along a side-street towards the town-centre, again, completely out of the blue,the CAW! CAW! CAW! of a raucous carion. "You noisy bugger" i shouted back,that got a laugh from passers by. I hadn't been the only person affected by the outburst. It seemed to me though as if i, or we, were being heckled, all in the mind, perhaps.
Anyway,Bus-stop, Home, i told myself.But first, a visit to frydays my favourite chippie, i'm not hungry, i reasoned with myself,but i always get some chips when i'm in town i counter-reasoned successfully. Habits die hard. I AM a creature of habit, so chips, it was.
Sitting in a small siding that comprises of possibly six or seven stops, for buses heading in and/or out of town, i sat eating my chips and watching the world go by,then Harry appeared.
Harry, is a vagrant, a street-person who appears occassionally, bed tucked under one arm, a bundle of cardboard, to checkout the litter-bins, and every time i see him, i feel so wretched, it cuts, it really does. I remember how, at school, as children, we played games where you had to do "pigeon-feet", remember "pigeon-feet"? Well that's how Harry walks/shuffles/moves along. His gait seems so pained, and all i can think of is, in this day and age, HOW? WHY? for god's sake. I hold no religous affiliations, which is neither here nor there, it's just a saying that we all resort to. Well , Harry came, and Harry went. I looked on, head bowed, as he slowly disappeared from view, then i boarded my bus.
No napping this time, but a short period of reflection and quiet contemplation ensued. There had been those geese the day before,thirteen, so what? But thirteen, why thirteen? And the colour purple, might there be some etherial [relevance] therein? And the scariest thing of all,maybe, the carion crows, with with their harsh rasping CAW! CAW! CAWS. And the dark associations afforded them by superstitious lore.
I recently read something of a Jung theory concerning the fixation with white horses,the idea that it represented life crisis. So what about the crows? What was that all about? I wondered.
Then there was that chinese chappie i'd read about somewhere, who after having dreamt one night that he was a butterfly, spent the rest of his life wondering if, he might in fact, be a butterfly, dreaming that he was a man.
something i posted some place else a long time ago.