We're English. So many things we think and don't say. Emotion is there, of course it is. We keep it all under the surface and the Thames glides by calmly. We know there are fat trout speckled with contentment, and sharp-toothed eels, and dark swirling mysterious whirlpools and we see all those things too in our peaceful views. We're not supposed to go swirling it all up with a stick, making it muddy and messy. Let it be. Keep calm and carry on.
But look at me - see I have the Celt in me too. I have fire and passion and burning desires, needs and wants and hopes and dreams. Sometimes I am fit to burst with not-saying. Sometimes I am fit to cry my heart out with not-hearing. Is it just me?
I don't want to believe the Thames is six inches of clear water run from the tap, but maybe all the other things are only there in my imagination. Perhaps it's just a trick of the light.
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