A quiet birthday
It’s Easter Sunday. We ran 10k, to the river and back; it was sunny and the paths up the banks were quiet. The residential streets were even quieter, though every house was full up with its residents. These’s no simple phrase to describe a street that is quiet in the sense of traffic coming and going, but packed with everybody who lives there being at home at once.
Yesterday we celebrated a birthday by cooking and eating a lot of food, drinking, playing games, and getting high. The birthday girl’s parents surprised her by knocking on the door after having laid out a birthday spread on the doorstep. The family caught up a few feet apart, and then headed home. They sang Happy Birthday to her from the street like springtime carollers.
The other night I rode right into central London, and the closer you get the quieter the streets become. Soho is completely empty and I didn’t see another person for miles at a time.