The Attraction of Solitude

I find it fascinating that, no matter where I sit in order to find peace and quiet, whether it is the most isolated of spots along the whole length of the river or the most secluded glade in the forest, within minutes that place becomes the most frenetic hub of activity in the entire history of forever.

On this picture, you can see my feet and legs (fun fact – in Hindi there is only one word for both articles). Minutes before, this was the only sign of life for miles around. Seriously, there was no-one! As of now, not three metres in front of me, there is a whole crew of young men and women intent on launching a boat into the river; one and a half metres in front of me is a man walking and calling to his small, black dog; four metres to my right are a group of men and women chatting about life, love and languine; a few metres to my left I can hear the clatter of heels on cobbles as a solitary remnant of the Saturday night crowd finally heads for home; and just behind me are the soft-soled paddings of joggers going round and round their imaginary race circuits.

I will leave this place now; not because of the un-asked-for company (because, actually, I find it quite endearing), but because my bum is now numb. Early morning benches are too cold for long visits. Plus, I need to pee.

Ciao for now.

8 thoughts on “The Attraction of Solitude

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