This Is This

It’s getting cold in London. People are making their cold faces, sour and pained, adorned with the expressions you or I would wear when we hear a note of tune. This year though, it seems easier to bear.

It has been an extraordinary year for a number of reasons, some of which I’ve written about. This blog won an award, someone stuck me in a podcast, I was in a book, I did some things I’m proud of, some I’m not. I went back to New York, I saw James Taylor and The Police and a whole scoop of other stuff.

There are a couple more events happening that I can’t talk about yet, but I promise I will very soon. I hate to say watch this space, but you know, some things are heading my way and this space is where you can hear about it.

It’s darker in the evenings, too, as we head towards the shortest days and fleeting mornings which tend to takes the pea out of my whistle, to put things mildly.

But there’s a bright, dry chill in the air that lets me think this year’s going to be different. This year’s white with black stripes.

This year, I’m catching myself on the way down. I’ve studied movements, checked the wind, I thought back to the days, and this year it’s going to be all right. This year I can hear the people cheering for my spirit, willing it to win the battles it once could not.

And it’s going to be OK, I think.

This year I’m hearing the signs, the small things, taking the credit against the nature of my character, affording the presumption of decency and feeling the hope that can be provided by a single detail.

Like the way my kids think magic is a verb, but only when it comes from me.

“Daddy, you magicked it.”

And yeah, I guess I did.

You guys, thanks for reading. My turn tomorrow with a return to the midweek story. Enjoy your day.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 13th, 2007 at 8:24 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed, or you can skip to the end and leave a comment yourself.