Muffled footsteps echo on hot tarmac, the succulent smells of lavender and lilac, the occasional whiff of wild garlic and the fresh, evocative tang of washing powder. I savor my own company. I relish long, freeing walks in cities not my own, freed from all acquaintanceship and the ties of family. The English sun is hot, the sky a wonderful blue, and against its backdrop the solidity of redbrick. I delve, surreptitiously, though I am doing nothing wrong, into the maze of dusty alleys that connects the streets, the half private world of wild ferns and lazy bees whose hum is the only sound. It is a private world, almost voyeuristic, as though opening the drawers and wardrobes of others. The world of English alleyways is mine to imbibe, to walk slowly, with none behind and none in front. To walk slowly, allowing the heat to warm me.
This small work is available from https://www.artfinder.com/product/york-back-of-terraces/ at £60, a slice of urban England which could be forever yours.