It’s possibly the only consistent rhythm in my life at the moment – the visit to the market every Sunday morning. Driven mainly by my wife’s insatiable need for ‘high quality bread’*, every Sunday at around 11am we follow the river northward towards the market.
*She’s French, so obviously.
We buy bread, eggs, organic vegetables, and usually a coffee from our favourite coffee maker. If we’re feeling cheeky, we might grab a pastry or cake to have alongside that coffee.*
*we are more often feeling cheeky than not cheeky. Sometimes we swear we are not feeling cheeky, and then end up cheeky by the time we have reached the market. The market encourages cheekiness with its many irresistible sweet treats.
As we experience the last heartbeats of summer and the season marches briskly towards autumn, I am loving any excuse to be outside. It is not unbearably hot, and the wind has not yet started biting to make walking too uncomfortable either. I can still wander around in shorts, knobbly knees brazenly on display.
A few times in the last week, Julie and I spent time in Bute Park – the large green space in the middle of Cardiff. Large enough so you can pretend you are not in a city, I found myself lying on a picnic blanket trying to figure out why I felt so relaxed.
The answer? No one was playing music on their phone or out of a speaker. Everyone was just out and enjoying the day. We could hear the quiet rustle of wind through the trees and the skittering of squirrels as they circled us, trying to gather enough courage to see what snacks were concealed in our backpacks.
The sounds of nature, it turns out, are soundtrack enough to have a fantastic day.
See you next time.
Rhi Axtell - Writer 
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