Mellow

This is our word for Oxford. We had a day off last Sunday and wandered around Oxford, not doing anything in particular. We ended up in the ‘city’ (although it must be noted that this is a concession to Oxford custom; there is no sense in which Oxford can be called a city. Even in more ancient times when a city consisted of a much lower population, Oxford would still not qualify as a city.) Precisely because it isn’t a city, it has a completely different feel to the frenetic energy of Sydney. People don’t shove or bustle. They might be blank-eyed tourists, congregating around scary intense looking tour guides. Or students: walking in clusters, running, riding, busy in their own worlds. Or important looking creatures, with an aloof, other-worldly air, disdaining the mere mortals with whom they are required to share their humanity.
But they are mostly unhurried, not harassed or jaded. Mellow, in fact. Though of course, some of these lives will be full of despair, frustration and have their own share of misery, this is not immediately evident in the tone of the ‘city’. Here, one could believe, for however brief a time, that life is good and beautiful and the madding crowd is a thing of fiction. An exquisite illusion. JMB