St James Park on a week day afternoon in March.
Impressions: White sky thick with cloud. Sweet, ice-creamy smell of blossom. Heaving with tourists dawdling and suits marching through. A festival of waterfowl and birds, majestic pelicans, swans. Squawking, hissing, clucking, sirens, variety of languages. Weeping willows, bursting buds, low loopy fencing, so many flowers. A swathe of shrivelled daffodil corpses. Yellow daffodils, white daffodils with orange noses. Don’t feed the wildlife, don’t chase the waterfowl, don’t touch the pelicans.
Question: What do you wish to touch or do that you’re not allowed to? And how would it feel to break that rule?
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