On a Hot October Morning

The Communist loved Roundhay Park, Leeds' huge Victorian park. As a child his family used to have day trips to the park from the slums where they lived and it was the Communist's ambition to live near it. He achieved this at the age of thirty-six, when my parents bought the house where we live now, and he never wanted to move ever again.

The Communist visited the park every week or so. But in his whole life he never experienced a day like today, because there never was an October day as warm as this in his lifetime.

The people of Leeds were making good use of it this morning.

Walkers in the dappled sunshine by the lake:

Ducks and geese being fed until they could barely stay afloat:

Keep-fitters on the grass:

and others running up and down the hill which used to lead to the open-air swimming pool which closed in the Seventies (sighhh! I'd have been swimming in it today!)

Children in kayaks on Waterloo Lake:

and others learning how to fall out, and then - hopefully - how to get back in again:

The beautiful, mature trees that I've known all my life, and that the Communist knew all his life:

The tranquil walks by the lake:

And, in the dappled sunshine, the seats where the Communist, in his old age, used to sit for a little rest on his slow stroll round the lake. "Shall we stop for a while, Daphne? I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

I missed him there this morning.