Look into my eyes – first published 9 July 2014

Early July 2014 and the third day of my three day weekend was all about eyes, my eyes to be precise. My routine eye test along with the prospect of another expensive pair of glasses could be put off no longer. Really I’d rather have been trotting off for a decent hike but I had to make do with a walk to town instead.

The tiredness that dogged me on Monday was still hanging around, so, when I say I’d rather have been going for a hike, what I actually mean is I’d rather have been sleeping in and having a lazy morning. On a normal Tuesday morning, if there is such a thing in these parts, there wouldn’t really be a chance of a lie in because Commando would be coming in from work and needing to go to bed. On Monday night though, he didn’t got to work. Late in the afternoon he took Commando Senior into hospital. This seems to be mainly to see what can be done to manage his pain and help him eat. The booking in process took such a long time Commando didn’t get home until after nine so he took the night off.

Anyhow, I’d booked the eye test and, tempting as it was to call and cancel, I didn’t. As I left the house I noticed the first of my tigridia bulbs are on the verge of opening. This, at least, made up for the dull weather with a hint of rain in the air and sent me off towards the river with a smile on my face.

Once I was outside and walking I did perk up a bit and, as I made my way down towards the river, the lethargy slowly lifted. There’s nothing like a bit of sea air to blow the cobwebs away and the river below Woodmill is salt water so almost counts as the sea. There may not have been any blue sky but the moody looking clouds, heavy with rain, made beautiful reflections in the still water. The light made even the old wrecks and the giant, dinosaur like, machines munching away at the scrap metal pile on the opposite bank look pleasing and I stopped to watch for a while.

On the embankment I stopped again, enchanted by the reflection of stormy skies in the water. Some days the beauty of the river makes me catch my breath and this was one of those days. Recent events have thrown the ephemeral nature of life into sharp focus. We don’t get long in this world and joy should be grabbed wherever we find it. Even the stones of the old wall and the vegetation growing on and between then seemed like works of art as did the lone orange poppy on the grass below. Time was ticking by though so, with one last look at the river and the hill behind where my little house was hiding, I carried on.

There were no more stops until I reached Six Dials. There’s a building on the corner that’s always intrigued me. Built, as far as I can tell, in the 1830’s it began life as a pub, the Red Rover, after the stage coach that ran from Southampton to London. In the 1850’s it was renamed the Bridge Tavern because the long tunnel leading to Southampton Central Station runs beneath it. By the 1980’s it had been turned into an art gallery, then flats. Now it is derelict which is a shame for such an imposing and unusual building in an area originally made up of terraced houses and shops. Usually the road and the street are busy so I’ve never managed to get a decent photograph. Maybe Tuesday morning is the time to go walking through because there was no one about so I stopped and captured it for posterity. Who knows when someone will come along and knock it down?

Even with the stops plus an accidental detour where my feet started taking me towards my old office and I had to turn back, I had time to spare when I reached the parks. Since last week the tigridia has opened, a little ahead of the ones in my garden. I spotted them in the shadow of Lord Palmerston’s statue in the enchanted park. Close by dew, or maybe early morning rain, was dripping from the trumpets of Desfontainea spinosa and, of course, there were hydrangeas everywhere.

Last summer I could stroll through this park at my leisure but now there was only time to dash through with a slight pang of regret. WestQuay and the opticians were calling. Did I say I’m not a fan of eye tests? There might not be any poking or prodding but there is something about them that makes me jittery. The thing is I always feel as if it’s a test where there are right and wrong answers and I’ve forgotten to revise.

First there was the retinal scan, a blinding flash of light in each eye and two photos on the screen that looked like alien planets in space. The wisdom of blinding me before checking my eyesight seemed questionable. Still, there was nothing wrong with my retinas which was a relief. This was followed by a test where I had to count dots of light, apparently to check my peripheral vision, then the puffs of air thing where you have to try not to blink. I am very bad at not blinking, especially when someone is shooting air onto my eyeball.

Finally we got to the read the lines of text test. This is the one where I feel as if I’m giving all the wrong answers. All that changing of lenses and asking, does it look better like this or like this stuff. Call me indecisive if you like but half the time it doesn’t actually look any different. Surely there must be a more scientific way to test eyesight? This just feels like trial and error and asking me to make decisions I’m not qualified to make.

When it came to deciding on new glasses because, yes I did need a change to my prescription, my brain just wasn’t up to it. The rows and rows of frames all looked the same except for the price tags. Nothing jumped out at me, nothing at all. To show willing I tried on one or two. The only ones in the shop I actually liked were the ones on my face already. Maybe my head was too full of other things.

In the end I took the prescription and said I’d think about it and come back later. New glasses can wait for a while. Time for a coffee and a thank.

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