Normal People

We have never had a more traffic-free drive to Birmingham. Never a quieter walk through the green spaces beside the river into the city. Never a more peaceful amble through the city park or a less-crowded time in the art centre cafe. Serving staff stood in amiable huddles, smiling and happy to help when they could find anyone who needed it

It was all a little inexplicable: where has everybody gone? The morning was grey and a bit chilly, but the afternoon was a perfect spring day. We sat in the shelter of the beech hedge - its leaves fresh-emerged this week - and picniced on birthday cake. Our son (birthday boy) sprang a surprise visit, so we had a joyful double-helping of children and grandchildren

We anticipated crowds because it was the city half marathon - lots of closed roads adding to the sense of calm. Our son-i-l and his father both ran, both with creditable times, and we were here in enthusiastic support. It's a cheerful event full of smiles and fun. As well as the personal challenges, it feels like a celebration of the city and its people

There has been no election here, nothing to stir up the bitterness and anger that seems to be seeping across the country like toxic fog. Perhaps I'm wrong; perhaps throughout Britain, just like here, smiling people of all colours and cultures were enjoying a spring afternoon together in city parks and cafés; a face of the country politicians and journalists do not see. A day with grandchildren brings an infusion of optimism 

The other side of the hedge is a dodgem car ride, so our picnic was not entirely buccolic. The genteel clipped hedge and garish hoarding an absurd contrast. There is more than one way of looking at things