Willow to panda

Driving east in the morning for four hours turned out to be exhausting. After the storm and the clouds had cleared. The sun was in my face the whole damn way. There were times when I was totally dazzled.

All the roads were open and no crashes this time. Visible debris at the roadside all the way through Wales. Is this the last named storm of the season? Oh I hope so. The Wye was vast and rushing with flood. People are gonna be bailing out their homes.

In the morning I rose early and met Megan in the kitchen. She’s from Missouri, studying at Warwick Uni, and she is self-determined enough to have emailed The Willow Globe in order to ask if she could come see how they go about making their shows. She saw it at Wyeside yesterday, but had never been to the theatre itself. I wanted to go and connect with it as well so we were out and up there.

It is stark and skeletal without the leaves that block the view and provide the colour. I was happy to see it sleeping, stripped back. I’ve been talking with Phil and Sue about how they planted it. Strange plans are afoot with me and maybe before long I’ll be getting a load of rods from them. It grows so fast. It is such a special place.

Megan was beside me as I struggled through the glare. Her train was cancelled so I drove her to Reading. Stopped off at Sweeney and Todd’s for another dozen freezer pies, and got to London before two, in order to do my job for the day.

Mister Panda sat and talked to a load of children with Amy the brilliant mad artist. It was her daughter’s school and they do “meet the parents” mornings. The next one schedules trains. She builds installations and works with a guy dressed as a panda. “Why have you got feet?” As I sat there surrounded by strange colourful things in fashionable clothes with a Panda head on I wondered if perhaps I was actually completely insane in a hospital bed somewhere dreaming this life.

But now I’m back home to the familiar comfort of a hot bath and a long distance can from Lou who has just landed in Dubai. She’s been in airports six times already this year… It’s like COVID never happened.

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Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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