Sunday, 2 August 2015
1:00 pm, 02/08/2015
1:00 pm. Voices rising and falling, dispersed in laughter reminiscent of long ago; feet dangled into the river, jeans rolled up. Water swimming between curled toes, washing away sweat and dirt, hour-ago memoirs of bare-feet pounding across grass, overgrown from abandoned early summer weeks. The boat rocking precariously to the left, and to the right, and the whole world toppling with it, before rebalancing, as it always does. People shifting too far, realising, and retreating, not quite grasping the blackberries on the riverbank, the weight distribution faltering once again. Gliding under the skeletons of trees draped in their finest greens, dappled light dancing on glass watch-faces. Aching muscles and bright faces, waving to strangers drifting past on water scattered with vein-ingrained leaves, alive with the gentle hum of wildlife, subtle reminders of humanity.