Life In 79

All of us have a special place, where we can ruminate on life and all it throws at us. We have a bench by a pond (not the most beautiful pond as it leaks, is half empty and covered in duckweed), where we have a cup or glass of something, stare into the muddy depths and drift in our thoughts. Across the water spans a rotten wooden bridge, like something out of ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom’. It has only ever been crossed by the dog and drunken revellers. The pond is home to an amazing array of frogs and toads, which like to sun themselves at the edge of the butyl liner. Whenever we pass there is a moment of surprise when 50 to 60 frogs hurl themselves through the air into the water, in the most spectacular display of synchronised diving. They even throw themselves off the rickety bridge. In the same way the Japanese rake gravel in their zen gardens, Anna scoops the duckweed from the surface in long, sweeping movements. Ommm! In particular in this month of commemoration it is imp...