After seeing Ira off to the airport, I was back on the tube and alone again. But it was too nice of an autumn day to be sullen for too long. I headed up Brick Lane in the direction of the Columbia Road flower market with the goal of replenishing the flat’s supply. Now here’s the thing about being so far from north; there is an upside to the short winter days. The low angle of the sun casts the magical light all day that our equatorial bound friends can only bear witness to via an alarm clock or much patience. Everything is basked in that diffused glow that makes colors a bit brighter, shadows a bit darker, and everything a bit more special. Enjoying the colorful scene of the Sunday East End markets, I could not help but feel a bit lighter.

Flowers obtained, I came upon the Brick Lane bike polo tournament. I watched for awhile; a couple games, a couple broken bikes, and a "half-time" show by five women set to not-loud-enough music and using wheels with streamers on them as a kind of pom-pom... The watching crowd (mostly men) was really quiet and I reckon that some of them were thinking, 'what the heck?' But in true English form, everyone was polite and clapped overly enthusiastically whenever the girls did anything remotely interesting. All I could think was, 'are there any women who actually play bike polo?' Some redemption was made when one of the gals switched bikes after her "show" to join her team.

Naturally, there was plenty of beer to go around. A woman hauled in a cooler and I heard her say Brick Lane Bikes provided it. Once the cooler was opened, they discovered Brick Lane Bikes had put their stickers on each and every beer. Now that's some worthy guerilla marketing!

Back at the flat alone, I re-flowered the vase and set about to discover what small treasures Ira had mistakenly left behind...

--- custom bike polo team disc wheel ---

--- half-time show... ---

--- guerilla marketing ---

--- bike polo casualty; what's wrong with this picture? ---