Town Mouse

A feast of fish

AFTER nearly two years of unnatural quiet, it’s taken a Tube strike to return the streets of central London to pre-lockdown levels of busy-ness. Once again, the rush-hour pavements are thronged with people and the roads choked with frustrated drivers. At mainline stations, the queues for taxis and buses have grown to epic proportions.

The week has also brought with it some very enjoyable evenings, all of them attended by people who are clearly delighted to be out and about again. Particularly memorable was an Ash Wednesday dinner at an Oxford high table that—in strict conformity to the rules of fasting—was entirely of fish. It made Lenten abstinence seem actively appealing.

Viewed in the sobering context of events in Ukraine, this resurgence of life feels strangely fragile, but perhaps it’s all the more exhilarating for the same reason. What we once took for granted now feels like the luxury it actually is.

In the meantime, spring is unmistakably in the air, despite the cold and wet. There is light again as the children set off for school in the morning, the parks are erupting in daffodils and the buds of the local magnolia trees are swelling into blossom. These are dark times, but there is a great deal to relish nonetheless.