The second sign is an unusually pretty sunset. Tonight it just pinged my consciousness
. The next time I will see the sun go down I will be in Africa. The gradual autumnal setting of home will be only a memory. So I grabbed my camera and went to catch a few pictures as I say goodbye to Penkridge, the place I suppose will always be my home.
The final thing is an accute awareness of time, and tonight the clocks change. It's so dangerous say the papers. They could be right. (see photos)
Final nights are always full of ritual; the last food that comes from a free fridge, the last night with a cat on my knee. But tomorrow will be an extraordinary day. It's time to travel again!
There are some things which seem to happen when I am about to leave. I have begun to regard them as a signal of change. The first is that a spider dies. I don't particularly like spiders that run fast, but I do praise their ability to mop up the flies and guard their territories. The night before I left Zimbabwe my favourite wall spider was eaten by another. Tonight, the big black lounge spider raced across the carpet, turned, raised up on its back legs and died. Together with the cat, we watched as the life ebbed out of its limbs, as they contracted into a web of their own. What happened? A heart-attack perhaps? So I picked it up, said goodbye, arranged its legs into a pose worthy of its stature and put it with the rest of my collection on my 'shelf of dead things' in my room.