Day 270: The Wall

I done 20 A*s.

Today it is hot and humid, and I have a newly acquired mosquito bite.  Despite all this, I can sense the first wisp of autumn in the air.  I have a job in Wimbledon, which takes me across the Common (like a Womble).  On the horsechestnut trees there are conker cases hanging fat and green.  A gaggle of teenagers are in front of me, linked like pick-up-monkeys, shrieking and flapping bits of paper.  It's exam result day.  And with that comes the inevitable wind of change.  Whatever it is.  Retakes without your peers, or university or travelling or a job or watching day-time television and raiding the biscuit tin, it's going to be different.   

William the Conker

There's a sense of forward motion, which muggy and stagnant mid-August needs.  Up in Edinburgh, acts will be hitting The Wall.  That mid-Fringe stage where everything slows, and flyering feels particularly tough.  It only last for a few days, and then speeds up.  Like a lorry struggling to get to the brow of a hill, and then coasting back down, with its own weight creating momentum. 

I'm not in Edinburgh, but even so I feel The Wall.  Delighted to get a sense of September round the corner.  Bring the mists and mellow fruitfulness on.