
Today is Easter Sunday and big stores are closed.
Continue reading “seasonal”

Today is Easter Sunday and big stores are closed.
Continue reading “seasonal”
Nowadays, most people seem to overlook Good Friday, but I thought it was an excuse to leave my desk for a while.
It’s been a glorious sunny day, but I didn’t take my camera when I went out, so rather than my usual habit of seeing things through a lens darkly, I actually looked directly at all the yellow flowers of spring: the daffodils peeking over garden walls, the primroses nestling in the uncut grass, the brighter yellow of celandines and, perhaps brightest of all, the shaggy-maned dandelions.
This lovely camellia stood out as such a different colour that I was tempted to try and capture it on my phone.
It’s Easter and I’ve realised that I don’t remember any of the Easter eggs I was given as a child, though I’m fairly sure there must have been some and I’m sure I was quite excited about them at the time.
Later on, I may have been given chocolates, flowers or other gifts by friends and lovers; no doubt they put a dutiful amount of thought into the choosing and the giving.
Perhaps I even gave presents to other people. If I did, though, I don’t remember.
In fact, from all the Easter gifts given and received during more than fifty years, I only remember one – the book in the picture.
The dedication inside shows just how long ago I was given it:
Half a century from now, how many people will reach for their e-reader and bring up a digital file that will have the power to connect them to the past in the way this book connects me?