I am sat on a park bench. The sun is blindingly hot but there’s a wonderful breeze which is just taking the bite of the heat away.
The park is a hubbub of people and noise: groups of teenagers lurking; juniors on scooters or cartwheeling across the cool grass; babies in pushchairs accompanied by proud grandparents or tired mums.
The play area is crowded. Families are dotted on picnic blankets around the park. Every bench has an occupant or two.
I’ve just enjoyed eating my lunch on one of these benches after my first day back in work.
Sitting here, you wouldn’t think that Corona is still destroying the lives of so many people. You wouldn’t think that it’s keeping people apart as borders remain closed. Or destroying businesses and industries. You wouldn’t think that tomorrow, my colleague is burying her mother after waiting four weeks and suffering in the knowledge that the death could have been prevented. You wouldn’t think that I’ve seen children cry today because their ‘exam’ results are just another unfairness , added on to all the others they have faced in the last few months. You wouldn’t think that I’ve learnt that the academy will take over my school and that people will lose their jobs or their careers are going to change. Mine, more than likely.
For a few minutes I can sit. I can forget it all whilst listening to children laugh and while I feel the breeze and the sun in my face.