 |
| Inspiration |
Catapulted from sleepy mid Wales to central London -
I am now sitting in a leafy city garden eating gourmet avocado salad and drinking white wine. Overhead yet another jet flies by. Debora, the maker of said gourmet salad, tells me that for this month there have been more jets directly overhead because the nearby Olympic stadium is a no-fly zone.
Despite the jets it feels green and peaceful here, like many
surprising pockets of central London which confound the stranger’s expectations
of a dark and dingy city. The new people
just moved into the flat next door are working on their garden and Debora tells me of a man in a house nearby who has two beehives on his house.
We are somewhat exhausted today because we spent yesterday
being roasted under hot sun watching wonderful athletic feats by remarkable paraympian
athletes in the packed Olympic Stadium. This was smaller, more intimate than I'd expected. From where we sat we had a good view of the track events and a fair view
of the long jump and the shot-put. Well edited television coverage obviously expands the whole shebang and makes it seem larger
than life to the people at home in front of their television.
But I now know to be there was to apprehend a culture that was
indeed larger than life, to witness the greater reality of the occasion. And this
was not just about seeing the stoical, gifted and focused athletes competing
before us, making us all more determined to try harder in our narrower lives.
It was also about the crowd – lots of local voices and images reflecting our modern
culturally diverse capital city alongside other faces and voices from the
world. And so many families with children on the last day before schools round
here began: children running up and down the aisles having fun, or being
photographed against the arena, the Olympic flame in the background - historic
images for the family albums.
The medal presentations seemed to come thick and fast, the massed
audience applauding and standing up for winners from every country. One older
man nearby stood each time to military attention, his thumbs to his trouser
seams. I couldn’t stand up as my ankle was playing up a bit. But I was standing
up with them all in my heart.
And it was especially sweet at the end of the session to
applaud David Weir when he was presented with his gold medal. If the
beautiful stadium had had a roof it would have lifted as the whole crowd joined the
athletes singing our own national anthem.
 |
| All this and wild flowers too... NB THANK YOU TO DEBORA'S SEAN FOR THESE LOVELY PHOTOGRAPHS.
|
