Smiles

You know that feeling inside when you are pottering around some small town on a lazy afternoon.  The day is your day, and you are doing your thing; So you have this casual euphoria going on, the type that tends to a ease a casual smile onto your face, and make even the light drizzle conspire to add to the quaint beauty of the stone walls, and peeling paint on the window frames and iron railings.  So you understand this mood I’m talking of.  

You will also know that curiosity which will make you turn down that narrow alleyway, the one that slopes encouragingly towards the river, and you will know that sudden joy when the sun comes out to reveal a small walled garden. A red brick walled yard filled with terracotta pots pouring geraniums over the wall and floor, and the old butchers bicycle with its basket replete with goofy faced pansies or the rusty pram used as a planter full of snapdragons. Good, we are in the same place.  That smile on your face.  The one right then. That is the smile she always wears, and when I look at her face I feel like I too am stood there in that quiet alley, the walls ashine from the recent rain, and the plants green and fresh, their colours so alive.