Waxing lyrical, behold I mused, a host of golden daffodils.
Well, jostling for prominence amid the usual detritus of burger wrappers, an item of ladies underwear, and the discarded evidence of birth control, writes John Taylor.
Normal fare it seems for Simpson car park. And with this being a regular dog walk, of course, I had to hurriedly shield Herbie’s eyes.
But hopefully the swaying blooms now trumpet the arrival of spring, and optimistically a few months of a more temperate clime. Yet with scarce faded memories of the Beast from the East, and the scenes of manic disruption, I’d best consult my crystal ball to see how we’ll cope in the future.
It seems the fewer number of office workers are now all tele-working from home. No stressful commutes on cattle grade trains, paying extortionate fares to some bloated management.
And manual drudge, quite happily the realm of banana chomping chimps, is now the province of robots, with no penchant for sickies, nor the slightest interest in football or binge drinking. But how to supply remote and snow bound communities?
Sorted, delivered whatever the weather by squadrons of Amazon drones. Yes, but what about bulk supplies?
No hassle – polluting lorries replaced by airships with electric propulsion.
As for “essential travel”, roads become irrelevant with flying cars and personal heli-packs. The future indeed seems rosy.
Just the thorny issue of a climate where the need for any humans seems to have been increasingly frozen out.