Fragmentary Thoughts

It’s a quiet afternoon here on Mecklenburgh Square. It’s cool outside, with little movement and little distraction, just the gentle rustling of the autumn leaves. The festivities and fireworks of yesternight seem long gone. The Queen is gone. The sun is fading fast in the edges of the sky. And I’m here at my desk, gazing outwards, with the soft minimalist tinklings of Philip Glass reminding me of the memories I never knew I had.

This has been a good week. A useful term break. There was food - lots of it - and there was company. But classes begin again on Monday, and this weekend have I set aside for some serious studying. Pages upon pages of impenetrable theory which just days ago seemed less relevant. They now take on a striking immediacy.

The changing seasons remind you vividly that time presses on, relentlessly. And yet sometimes, moments from the past continue to grip you, haunting you. So we just have to move on, ahead and ahead and ahead.