April 17, 2010
[Some light relief in the sunshine]
Sun does lovely things to a mind. Chairs become more comfortable, or rather any sense of discomfort is disabled, transcended. Your skin tightens to form a perfect, supple map of your spirit; you idly trace the contour lines on an arm, a hand. What were imperfections are now silky places of interest, to be visited on gentle excursions.
You slide a sensitive fingertip over the tiny beads of condensation on a cold glass of wine, and watch industrious bees milk the flowers. It gradually dissolves the weekday mind – the mind which eternally hefts and swings solid, clanking thoughts like the heavy chains between important ships.
The mind that takes over is an insidious one, a slow-motion cascade to which you are only occasionally party. It is like a team of bright young detectives, all working after-hours on separate cases with great endeavour. Each one is the potential making of a career, a conundrum that others have already failed to unravel, and their ambition drives them forward. Anxious to please their well-respected chief constable, they shy away from presenting half-baked theories. The first anyone knows of their breakthroughs is when they arrive, bursting behind your eyes as fully cast capsules. Since you were witness to so little of the process of investigation, these intricate results simply slot into the mind as knowledge – how could you question them?
All of this industry takes place whist not a limb is moved, not even to flash away a flying nuisance. The cases are solved softly, one at a time and with a calm irregularity.
Eventually some vital but unknowable ingredient of your pacific environment changes – an animal arrival, a human departure. Though the policemen are gone, back to their routine responsibilities, and you have snapped back into life’s steady pace, the work they have done stays with you.