Melancholy Monday

Last week it was Southern California weather here, bright, sunny, warm, without being too warm and no humidity. Today I look out the widow at a cold rainy day. This is more like the England that I know and love.

My morning walk down by the river was nice if a bit wet. But, still there is something about a river walk with all the nature that goes a long way. And in nature I include the scull teams that are out for their early morning practice sessions. They, along with the Ducks and Swans, glide along silently.

Later in the morning I find myself sitting for another class in a beautiful 400 year-old room that is used during the year as a study room for a couple of students. There are two bedrooms and the entire apartment is bigger than my space is Atlanta. There is a 14-foot ceiling, overstuffed chairs and a desk and wardrobe that appear to be as old as the hall.

One of the tutors and his wife live there during the summer months, and use it as a convenient place to hold small seminars. The main drawback is that the head is down the hall and shared with others on the floor, and the shower is down stairs and is also communal.

But, as I only am only there for a lecture session and don’t plan to take a shower, I find myself fantasizing about how much fun it would be to live there.

After about an hour and a half of talk and slides we all run off to the Junior Common Rooms for coffee. Which I might point out is not Starbucks. There people grab coffee or tea and then move to the TV room to watch the latest update on the London Subway bombing.

Almost all of the people in the room came down from London and are going back when the summer sessions are over. They are watching much as you might watch the weather channel to see if your plane will be on time or has a storm held it up.

From there I rush back to the room to have the rest of the session on Pilgrimages in Medieval England. Here we are introduced to the “Cult of Saints,” the building of Cathedrals over older churches, burial grounds and the start of religion in Medieval Life.

There is something very surreal about all of this. Sitting in a privileged centuries old institution studying “Restless Bones” while the “real world” with its matters of life and death seem so far away. Here it seems like it doesn’t really touch us. At my age and stage of life that seems both comforting and a quite sad.