I walked through the village as darkness fell this evening. I walked a route I have walked a hundred times, but this time I saw things I had never noticed before, or if I had noticed them had not paid any attention to. I saw birds flitting from tree to leafless tree, and heard many more chirping away unseen in the hedgerows. I saw the yellow streetlights coming on one by one as the daylight seeped away, and people closing curtains at lit windows. I saw a young couple in walking boots and waterproofs strolling through the fields together in happy silence, and two ladies walking their three dogs. I saw a little bird watch me from a gable, silhouetted against the sky. I heard the bells ringing from the Abbey, drowning out the ever-present background drone of traffic for a few short minutes. I saw a red telephone box in a puddle of light from a streetlight above it, bright lights in the hotel bar spilling into the street, the first few green leaves of a new cereal crop pushing their way above the soil. I saw the Abbey lit up by its floodlights, and the Catholic church sleeping in silent darkness. I saw a hill crowned by tall trees breaking the curve of the horizon. I saw two geese fly low above me, and heard their honking, like distorted car horns.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn Is to love and be loved in return."
I'm lonely tonight.