Summer clouds are drifting harmlessly over the church. On the street corner I open the lid of the large bin containing the grit for the icy roads and I peer inside. It is almost full. On the front of the bin there is a picture of a local authority workman wielding a snow shovel. The writing says: Snow Workers Wanted. And there's a telephone number for those seeking more information. Unemployment figures have been climbing steadily by degrees for more than 20 months. They are now at their highest level since 1953. The city is preparing for winter.
Here it is usually the reverse Gwil - nobody thinks of filling the bins with grit until the roads are icy.
ReplyDeletebe prepared - you never know - the spirit of Baden-Powell lives on
ReplyDeleteSalt for the roads in winter is conveyed from Cheshire to Norfolk during the summer months. Our lorries would bring it back as return loads when they had been to Wales with animal feed from Norfolk. I don't know what the policy is these days but that was certainly the way 5 years ago.
ReplyDeleteThanks for all those true grit comments.
ReplyDeleteI like it when life accidentally takes on the metaphorical depth of poetry!
ReplyDeleteMe too. And it's all around us.
ReplyDelete