Quiet

It's very quiet in this new office. I've been the only one here for about two hours now. In some ways that's a good thing. Getting on with the PhD is the order of the day/week/month. So quiet is good and helpful. Of course, it's not really quiet because noise comes in from time to time, mostly traffic, the occasional emergency vechile. The grey sky line of the first part of the morning has given way to a pasty looking lighter grey as the sun makes an attempt to break through the clouds. From where I sit the most noitceable thing about Sheffield is building sites. There are cranes stretching up, practicing maneouvres. There are old brown-field sites looking for a new lease of life. There are half finished and half started buildings, some wrapped up in plastic. There are rows and rows of cones. This is the twenty-first century city: always changing. For all I know it has been the story of the city throughout the ages. Maybe prehistoric Sheffield was a building site. The different styles of architecture sit side by side. In some places the roof tops look like rows of teeth, the windows like blank eyes.

In the beginning was the building site.
It was rough and messy and waiting.
The sun came out
and made the puddles sparkle.
The dandelions began to push their way
through the rubble.

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