February 5, 2011
The calming music of wind chimes is transormed into jarring clanking. It is always a nice walk, down the wide street lined with tall, mature trees, with the large houses removed from the pavement, half-hidden in the vegetation, this quarter of the city inspired by Boston. There are always owls, and one is calling shrilly right now, from the dampness above. The rain is incessant. The pub is a warm haven, but the beer is just going off so it's not the perfect pint I was looking forward to. The walk back is always agonising, slow, feet dragging, sleep.