A Ginger Cat and Blue Flowers

At one with the world. No before or after. Only now. No, not a mystic far advanced in contemplation but a ginger cat. It lay on its side, motionless in the afternoon sun. As I passed it turned its head. Its eyes blinked closed, as if enjoying the moment. It lazily registered my presence. Then it resumed its rest.

I don’t know whether cats have consciousness as we do. Surely there was no thought of the local vet in his mind: past visits or future, or offspring far and wide – or maybe none at all.

From my mind, however, thoughts of human ills are never distant. Nor are all the concerns of anyone who has a family. It’s the curse and the privilege of awareness.

Mrs Llew and I walked today where modern buildings have begun to blend in with the thatched and half timbered homes which preceded them – by about 500 years. Intimate, human scale still. Below an old grey stone wall some small flowers blossomed. ‘What are they?’ Mrs. L asked. Perhaps she was testing me. ‘Lungwort’, I said. ‘ The leaves look a bit like lungs’, she said..

But the tracery of tiny blue flowers which grew on the wall by the cattle market defeated me. I couldn’t name them.

There was blossom everywhere.

Then we went to Waitrose.

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One Response to A Ginger Cat and Blue Flowers

  1. churchmouse says:

    Ahh, Waitrose — great for a bank holiday shopping spree. I have just made a fig tart (Raymond Blanc’s recipe from the recent BBC series) with their figs along with fig and apple jam. Shall have some tomorrow to celebrate the Royal wedding!

    If it rains tomorrow, it’s a good sign for the longevity of their marriage. My mother told me that on my wedding day. We had a light sprinkle after the ceremony, then it bucketed down later in the afternoon.

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