Good Friday

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A day of tired exercise. I walked down to the Armouries, and Leeds Dock, before I was advised to leave Leeds city centre as masses were degorged upon Boar Lane, from the Railway Station, in pulses and cycles as various engines came alongside the platforms. A often broken 4 hours up to the Hollies and Meanwood Park before following the Beck back towards town. Ten miles. Yesterday was a blow out. First one in a while. Tonight I am calming the bodily formations. Read up to chapter 18 of Dandelion Days as Leeds disturbs me with its automobile noise and the gentle song of a blackbird closer to, and more vivid, than the barren drone of the arterial roads connecting nothing with nothing. A good night's sleep and early to Wetherby for Merry Legs, allotment, lawn mowing and other green fingered passions...

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