Waiting for Godot

"We are all born mad. Some remain so." 
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

Started the day with a walk with J and temporary resident Ollie.  Usual haunt, two locks and towards Malpas.  Fairly quiet at 8am, just a few cyclists heading off to work in Newport direction and the occasional walker.

K has arranged to visit Newport this morning, first time since the op. on her foot,  so I do the taxi service.  Once she is settled in, listening to the Blameless Hussies [singers, not moaners], I head off in search of a photo [and somewhere for lunch if truth be told].  The Usk footbridge is an obvious draw for me, being so close and full of potential, and it's a pleasant stroll in the warm late morning sunshine.  Hortons coffee shop beckons, it's at the far end of the footbridge from the town, and I get a friendly welcome even though I'm only browsing to see what's on offer - plenty of selection so a return trip is on the cards.  Stroll back to collect K, drive around to the car park near the Riverfront and it's only a short dap across the bridge.  Another brownie point for the staff, they remember me and take the trouble to welcome me back - good customer skills.  So we enjoy a relaxing lunch outside overlooking the river.  Fully fed and watered, it's only a short hobble back across to the car park then home.  Meditation time and some sorting out of photos on the computer...zzzzzz 

Watched a profile of John Denver on catch-up TV this evening.  Not a trendy singer to own up to liking at the time [or probably since], but when was I trendy?  Particularly enjoyed his account of the inspiration for Annie's Song, a song that really "spoke" to me at the time, but the background to which I've only just become aware.  He described a moment when his senses were filled with awareness of the world around him after skiing in the mountains above his home in Aspen, Colorado [before it became popular].  The sort of peak experience that is described as spiritual - and if you've never had one then words can't adequately describe it, although a good writer can convey something of the sense of it - and that maybe is what I found in his lyrics.  The programme also drew a sketch of the person behind the performer, and his support for Jacques Cousteau as well as his struggle with being a popular "star".   Liked him then and like him now.  As I reflect on the most influential songs from my earlier years, I'm now reminded of how they carried many levels of meaning beyond being "nice tunes".