Ducking and Diving

Today’s been a beautiful day. The sun was out, the air was warm and still, and it wasn’t hot or muggy. After a very productive morning and afternoon, my support worker Will and I set off to explore the nearby Burgess Park that’s recently been refurbished.

Thanks to the wide level paths I was able to propel my wheelchair myself for a bit so Will and I could travel side-by-side. I’ve missed being able to do this so I really enjoyed chatting to Will without having to shout backwards at him.

I knew there was a lake somewhere in the park so we decided to venture off the path, which meant Will had to start pushing again. We wobbled down a slope and round a large mound and as we turned the corner the lake came into view. It’s fantastic.

There’s a new boardwalk bridging the lake and as we crossed to the opposite bank I found the noise of my wheels clattering against the wooden boards very exciting. I asked Will if I should undo my seatbelt so I could make a speedy getaway if we were to fall in. He immediately said I shouldn’t, but reassured me that in the event of a freak bridge collapse he’d prioritise getting my seatbelt undone.

Once safely across we found a nice place to sit down. We sat in the dappled late afternoon sunlight and looked out onto the lake. It felt very peaceful.

But it certainly wasn’t quiet because my tics started harassing the wildlife. The ducks, the swans and the massive fish all got harangued but it was the moorhens who bore the brunt of my tics’ attention.

“Stop floating moorhens” and “Oh no not moorhens!” immediately followed by:

“Oh no not more hens!”

I always find it amusing when the intonation of a tic changes its meaning like this.

The moorhens didn’t seem at all bothered and continued to bob around on the shimmering surface of the lake.

After a delicious ice-lolly we made our way out of the park and back to buzz of the city.

Leave a Reply

Login Register

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.