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Site B obscured by trees: April 2014

It's a beautiful, sunny April day. I went out to site B today, about half an hour cycle ride. Everything was falling to bits, though; me (runny nose, streaming eyes, and only two tissues), bike (chain slipping, only one gear useable), shoes (one split), but after a couple of hours of taking pictures (and so at least alleviating guilt from not taking any) it was then really nice to just pause, and not to cycle home straight afterwards, but to sit at the top of the earth bank that surrounds site B, among the cherry trees. It was really nice, simply looking out, down through the trees, it was suddenly a little bit surprising. Not so much the view, which is not particularly scenic, obviously, after all it's just a construction site spread out below, with vast heaps of gravel, tons of debris and some deep-cut excavations with a few feet deep of shimmering, palest green run-off water, tinged in places with rust. The strangeness came from noticing that in the act of seeing I became subtly aware that I'm still here, alive. That fact, it hardly seems possible. Perhaps there has been a beaurecratic error, surely I'm supposed to have finished life by now, handed my body bank in (look, no tattoos, like a school text book returned in re-useable condition at the end of year) - who do I need to have a word with to get this sorted? Whoever made the mistake, and whatever the mix up, it seems a minor infringement in the greater scheme of things, and I'm grateful for it. There's always endless significant things happening in the world, I expect oversights like me happen quite regularly. Now looking out from the top of the earth bank, not in the earth or scattered ash, reflecting on the past (funny, sad, happy) and seeing it intertwine with the present in a crumbling, haphazard way, excavations, and heaps of stones, briefly in focus again under the blue sky and cherry trees.