Do You See What I See?

Silly question, really; of course you don't. But maybe, if I try very hard, I will be able to give you an inkling of things I noticed Monday morning, on my way to Waitrose. There are several routes I can take. One winds through little alleyways, in and out. Another follows the slightly wider side roads, lined with fairly imposing detached properties, while a third, after crossing the main Havant road with its rushing cars and occasional bicycle or bus, veers to the left and passes St Faith's Church Hall, before a final sharp right brings you to the welcoming arms of Waitrose with its shelves full of groceries. This was the way I chose.

It's the old, brick wall boundary of the Church Hall that catches my attention. It stands well above head height and its rounded top sports a few tufts of various mosses, like an old man might sprout a last few hairs before baldness claims him. The bricks are pitted, even crumbling in places, and display a wide range of glowing colours, appropriately enough at present, in Autumn shades : warm russet: pinkish, brick-red: red-gold amber and lastly, occasional deeper tints and tones of maroon to black. In the light of a sunny morning, the wall glows, despite being in shade.

I walk slowly by, drinking in the colours, but then, I notice how out of kilter its perpendicular lines are, as it gradually curves round the car park area of the hall. At the start, its top tilts slightly to the left, but further along it straightens, then eventually, tilts a little to the right. Somehow, it gives the impression as I move past, that it's slowly changing position to ease it's weary bones, like an arthritic person putting their weight first on one foot, then the other. Several of the double width columns that strengthen it at intervals, have sturdy pieces of wood bolted to the top two and a half feet of the brickwork. The bolts are rusty round their circumferences, and the wooden buttresses are weathered to a light silvery grey. Perpendicular ruts and runnels texture their surfaces, give an indication of their age.

Over to the right, once the Church Hall and it's adjacent building which houses a Nursery School have been negotiated, are a group of small cottages. They have Georgian looking, small paned windows, two of which have white, ornamental shutters on either side, and their pointed roofs add to their fairy tale look. On the pavement before them, a wrought iron seat, painted green, encircles a small tree. The effect is only spoiled by a tall, road sign pole, totally out of character in the chocolate box picture made by the cottages.

Three roads form a Y shape in front of the picturesque seat-round-the-tree, and I have to take care I'm not daydreaming as I trundle my shopping trolley on the last part of my route, which takes me by more tiny, elegant, listed buildings, before the modern walls and grilles of Waitrose's underground car park blast fumes across the pavement. A pavement liberally dotted with pigeon droppings, I see, plus a plethora of tiny, fluffy feathers produced by the morning preening session on Waitrose's rooftop.

So I arrive a my destination, and need to concentrate on my shopping list. I may decide to ask you to walk home with me, eventually, to allow you to see the view from the other direction. On the other hand, I may leave you all shopping in Waitrose. At least you won't go hungry!