The snow of yesterday has melted over night. Spring is not far anymore. I can hear that every morning now. The birds are preparing themselfs to find the right partners. They sing and talk quite a lot. The bird with the funniest noise is the goose. Geese and swans can not fly quietly, the always make a little sigh with every wing strike. This makes me smile.
The closer I come towards Calais the more rubbish I can see. Sometimes I wade in rubbish. Here around Lens I passed a few camps with refugees and romas. It is something completely different when you see that on tv. They all live in caravans but still, there is so much dirt around these camps and sometimes I didn’t know how to avoid to step in all these human excrements which are all over the place outside the camps.
My daily teastop was a surprise though that was not very difficult after yesterday. I got a big pot of nice tea and I sat far away from all the men on a quiet table. About twenty minutes later, when I left the place, I was an engaged women. Again. I can not count how many times this happened already. Either the men stop talking when I enter the pubs or they decide right away to declare me as their new fiance. They don’t even talk to me or ask for my name before they do that.
The worst was an elderly man two days ago. When I entered the pub at 9 am, there was only this man sitting there with his beer. When he saw me, he stood up and said with the loudest voice: „Bonjour Mademoiselle!“ There was no staff there so I was waiting until somebody would show up to take my order. Then the man started to whistle: „Oh what a night, what a lady what a night“
And I started to roll my eyes. Then I went to the toilet. While I was in there I heard several men entering the pub. The elderly man said to them: „In a couple of minutes I introduce the little Mademoiselle to you that is sitting on the loo. She is my new fiance.“ I wished I could have stayed in that toilet until everybody was gone. But I went out and I smiled friendly at 5 grinning men. There was still no staff around so I left the pub without having a cup of tea. When this happens to you for the first time, you maybe think it is funny but when it starts to be your personal Groundhog day it is hard to keep smiling.
Today I met a nice chap. He stood all alone beside the road, far away from civilisation and he seemed not to belong to there. There were no houses within miles, only endless farmland. It was a very pretty red fire hydrant. What was he doing there? Was he waiting for the fire of his life to pass by? And the most important question of all:
What does a fire hydrant do when his heart is on fire?