Sharples continues sharing his memories, more of his doings are here
On a hot summer’s day there is little to be done. Leftovers from last night’s barbecue make an easy breakfast leaving plenty of morning hours to find the perfect shady spot.
A stroll through the town arboretum capturing the last coolness as the sun gets higher in the sky. There is even time to sit and watch a child with chubby legs feeding the overfed white ducks that loiter on the lake. Those ducks know they only have to hang around at the water’s edge before a human will offer a meal of bread they bought from Tesco’s.
As the last crumbs scatter about on the floor for a babble of hungry sparrows it is time to climb up the manmade hill they call a rockery. Half way up is a bush covered in small yellow flowers. Beneath its outstretched limbs is the perfect spot to keep cool, doze or watch the madness as the sun worshipers from nearby offices eat their lunches stretched out on the finely manicured lawns.
From his cool sheltered spot on the hill, Sharples was more than content to leave the intense heat of the midday sun to the mad dogs and Englishmen that sprawled on the grass.
© JG Farmer 2014