Glancing at the Road Not Travelled.

Every night this week, at least one new set of Christmas lights has appeared somewhere on JJ’s perambulation route. There were three tonight, including one at a bungalow in Mill Lane.

It has a conservatory on the side, the whole interior perimeter of which was hung with a run of small lights which rose and fell in different colours. The result was an ebb and flow of subdued illumination, passing from red to blue to green and back again, each change being punctuated by the soft touch of shallow darkness.

I watched it for some time, and thought what a splendid place it would be in which to engage in meaningful conversation with a special person late into the night, the sort of special person who makes your skin tingle in waves.

Imagination took flight, and the perception of a now empty space fell passing sad.