Monday, 10 March 2014
"Lovely mornin'," the window cleaner calls out as he sets his ladder against the shop window and breaks into a warbling whistle, his chamois swirling in a bucket of water.
Aul' Jimmy comes out of Watsons with two pies in a paper poke and saunters across to the side door of the Harmony Bar.
It's a task not to say hello to everyone you pass on the way to Govan Cross; let's remember, this is 21st century life and people are a lot more stand offish than they used to be. In spite of this, there seems to be a current of good humour wafting through the air.
Down Water Row, a man is scrubbing a table outside the door of his newly refurbished shop, out on the pavement, enjoying the sun.
At the taxi rank, drivers are outside their cabs, sharing stories and soaking up a few rays.
Walking briskly towards me is a couple of chaps; a wee guy, and a wee'er one. They are dressed down in saggy joggys, down at sole sannies and jerkins. The wee'est one has the extra long smile from corner of mouth to ear, and is saying to the other as they pass me, "Take it fae me, it's the best drink ye'll ever savour ootside the bookies."
Across from the P.I., Govan's green wilderness germinates in today's golden springtime.