I don’t think I will forget

It’s a meeting I don’t think I will forget for a very long time, it made such an impression on me. We were sitting on a low and rather elegant old couch covered with an embroidered fabric. The ornate frame was gilded but the gold had dimmed with age and the touch of countless hands. I was wearing a crisp, white short sleeved blouse and a full , bright red skirt, he was wearing a pale blue short sleeved shirt, and navy trousers and sitting comfortably with one leg crossed over the other.

We were in the middle of an airport concourse, a light airy place with pale green paintwork on the metal struts supporting the arched roof, deeply engaged in conversation, inclined towards each other to catch each other’s words. I had my hand on the couch as I leaned forward to hear his gentle, well-known voice, and maybe because he’s old, he was leaning towards me, his hand on mine.

Unfortunately I can’t remember what we were speaking about so earnestly, enjoying our exchange, but I was aware of how special it was, how relaxed I felt, how pleasant his company. It’s not often one gets the chance to spend time with your hero, and find him just as delightful and engaging as he seems in the media. I was aware of the privilege, and flattered that he seemed interested in me and my opinions.

Yes, it will be a while before I forget meeting Sir David Attenborough, even if it was not in reality but in a vivid dream!