The beauty in Brum.

In the last few weeks Diana has done little work in the 'paid employment' sense. However today she has to attend a court hearing to be cross-examined on the content of a care proceedings report she wrote as the commissioned independent social worker. She usually travels to the centre of town by bus but I volunteered to take her and thereby reduce 'wear and tear' on her uncomfortable but professionally-tonal heels - they always come out for such occasions. After some demurring, she accepted my offer.

I think that there must be something wrong with me.

This isn't the first time I've experienced such a thing in recent weeks, but as I drove, the city streets, even in rush hour, appeared attractive, full of colour and interest. I could take pleasure, and find fascination, in the commonplace, the mundane. I found myself absorbed by the variety of texts on white vans, advertising slogans, buses and street furniture. City workers, intent on reaching their destinations, were part of a constantly shifting and unknowable complexity of lives filled with unimaginable connections. Buildings, some of them seen as though for the first time, appeared impressive, indicative of the city's confidence and dynamism. I even found myself strangely detached from and observant of, the time-saving, gap-finding strategies of other motorists.

Thinking about it now, two days out from my op., I guess that although I have reached a condition of some emotional stability, something of the vulnerability and fear remains. I was, I am, sensitised to the existence of life; life in a city, condensed, intensified and on constant, shape-shifting display.

I would like to continue to be a part of it.