Going to work
I love going to work in the mornings because I get to drive my lovely Mini and the route to work is pleasant. My Mini is my little haven - I'm surrounded in music and gorgeous scenery, and I'm singing at the top of my lungs. It's a great start to the day.
As I drive away from my apartment, I encounter rows of pre-schoolers walking to kindergarten. Some of them are accompanied by their parents or older siblings, holding their hands or shouting at them as they skip on ahead. When it rains, there will be a parade of multicoloured welly-boots, and much splashing about in puddles. If I leave early for work, there will be a young lady in a grey trenchcoat taking her beagle to the park, his tail held stiff and straight up in the air like an aerial. The yellow suited lollipop man stands in front of me, arms held out, so that the children can cross the road. When they are safely across, he waves at me and I wave back as I drive on by.
There is always slow traffic on the bridge leading to the Perpetually Jammed Roundabout (or the Jammy Doughnut, as MDH and I call it). I'm okay with this, because the bridge spans one of the tributaries of the Humber River, and I get to slow down enough to appreciate the rising sun sending sparkles over the gold water. On a cold foggy day, the river is mysteriously grey. When it rains, it looks forebodingly black. If I'm lucky, there will be porpoises.
Once I hit the motorway, Basil the Mini roars to life and my speedometer jumps from 40 to 70 as I overtake the slow moving lorries and container trucks. On one side of me is the river lined with tall brown catkins, on the other, there are train tracks and a graffiti-covered stone wall. The fast train to London whizzes by, a blue and silver blur.
Then, I turn off, and drive by the open fields of the Yorkshire Wolds, sparkling with the morning dew. More often than not, Basil ends up queuing behind a tractor or combine harvester of some sort. No matter. I look out my window as I tootle along. Sometimes, there are shaggy brown horses peering at me from over wooden fences. Other times, a started pheasant will fly over my car in a flash of green and red tail feathers. Or maybe I'll catch a glimpse of Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail disappearing into a roadside burrow.
When I reach work, I'm bright, cheery and surprisingly rested. It's all good.
As I drive away from my apartment, I encounter rows of pre-schoolers walking to kindergarten. Some of them are accompanied by their parents or older siblings, holding their hands or shouting at them as they skip on ahead. When it rains, there will be a parade of multicoloured welly-boots, and much splashing about in puddles. If I leave early for work, there will be a young lady in a grey trenchcoat taking her beagle to the park, his tail held stiff and straight up in the air like an aerial. The yellow suited lollipop man stands in front of me, arms held out, so that the children can cross the road. When they are safely across, he waves at me and I wave back as I drive on by.
There is always slow traffic on the bridge leading to the Perpetually Jammed Roundabout (or the Jammy Doughnut, as MDH and I call it). I'm okay with this, because the bridge spans one of the tributaries of the Humber River, and I get to slow down enough to appreciate the rising sun sending sparkles over the gold water. On a cold foggy day, the river is mysteriously grey. When it rains, it looks forebodingly black. If I'm lucky, there will be porpoises.
Once I hit the motorway, Basil the Mini roars to life and my speedometer jumps from 40 to 70 as I overtake the slow moving lorries and container trucks. On one side of me is the river lined with tall brown catkins, on the other, there are train tracks and a graffiti-covered stone wall. The fast train to London whizzes by, a blue and silver blur.
Then, I turn off, and drive by the open fields of the Yorkshire Wolds, sparkling with the morning dew. More often than not, Basil ends up queuing behind a tractor or combine harvester of some sort. No matter. I look out my window as I tootle along. Sometimes, there are shaggy brown horses peering at me from over wooden fences. Other times, a started pheasant will fly over my car in a flash of green and red tail feathers. Or maybe I'll catch a glimpse of Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail disappearing into a roadside burrow.
When I reach work, I'm bright, cheery and surprisingly rested. It's all good.
posted by tscd at 7:15 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home