It’s a chill, foggy day with the sun showing as a pale disc surrounded by a diffuse glow as its rays try and bite through the mist. Fog droplets condense on the bare tree branches and give a constant patter of drips onto the fallen leaves as an accompaniment to my steps. The pond level has been allowed to drop and everyone is very sedate this morning. Maybe the ducks and geese are finding it easier to reach choice morsels below the surface as they upend, so everyone is replete and in a good mood. The cormorants are in their proper positions, surveying the scene like lords of the ponds, unchallenged by belligerent goosey usurpers.
Further on, more than a dozen volunteers from the local Lion’s Club are at work on a sub-pond. They are cleaning up the fringe and planting the bank. Chilly work that requires that lots of coffee is drunk. A long table has been prepared with large pots, paper cups, sugar and cream. Temptation is strong, but I press on.
By the time that I reach the pet store with its auto-doors that snap voraciously at me as I hurry past, my scarf and hat are moist with condensed fog; my one and a half miles to my morning coffee is almost over.
There at last, I settle at a table and notice that the bookstore is ready for the population’s effort to keep their New Year’s resolutions. A large table is set out with ‘dieting tools’ – self help books, calorie tables and personal logs. We’re ready to move into an austerity phase after the indulgencies of the holidays. Feast, then famine is the traditional rollercoaster that we’re all stuck with.