Alexander and the Geranium

It was obvious the Geranium knew very little about cars.

You don't know much about cars, I said. If you scraped off the bird shit you'd damage the paint.

What do I care? said the Geranium. I am not one for luxury. But I can understand why you don't like bird shit. I don't much like it myself.

Are you a Gymnosopher or not? I asked. You don't care for luxury, yet you don't like birdshit.

I'm a bit of a Gymnosopher, I suppose, said the Geranium. I stand on one foot, I stare at the sun, I don't spit. But I also like a little water now and then.

How reasonable, I said.

I like to think I'm reasonable, said the Geranium. By the way, have you read any Plutarch?

Not lately.

Then you may not know the famous passage in which Alexander the Great asks ten questions of ten Gymnosophists.

I don't. Why does he do it?

He's heard they are wise. He also wants to kill them because they have aided his enemies. So he says he will put to death the first one who gives him an incorrect answer.

Brilliant! What's the first question?

Which are more numerous, the living or the dead? said the Geranium. It's a tricky one. Do you want to know the answer?

No, I said, let me think about it for a minute.

First Day of Winter

It's really the second day of winter, but it's more like the first.

We set out to walk to Norwood as soon as the rain stopped. We aren't used to rain. We didn't think it would rain again while we were out.

Odd yellow leaves and stems had been added to the pavement. Yesterday's heaps were flattened into wet soggy maps.

Plane tree leaves stuck fast and dark mirror puddles reflected an upside down world of bare branches. The sky was the colour of whales.

The colour of ocean and the colour of spume.

We bought apples and tomato paste... we looked for cuticle oil.

And just as we were about to step out of the mall near the fish shop it started to rain.

We couldn't walk home. We don't like being thwarted. We made our way up The Parade shop by shop.

It didn't stop all the way home, but it became lighter and we got used to it.

Outside our house, the birdshit on the pavement was nearly all washed away.