I genuinely wasn't that bothered with the wedding yesterday so went for a long walk mainly to try a snap the blue bells before they die back.
On my walk I passed through an ex mining village,a big slightly down at heel council estate , a large estate of newish executive private homes (the sort with new cars and caravanettes on the drive and double carriages etc) and an older rural village with a 17cth church flying the union flag and Geoff Boycott's old house and finally a very well to do hamlet full of gated homes through the gates of which you could peek Aston-Martin's and those bespoke kid's tree houses that cost several grand. The only evidence of a national celebration in this fairly broad cross section of our countries people was one house with a few strings of buntin. I saw nor heard any street parties or any garden parties, I wasn't stopped in the street by people wearing stupid hats I didn't even see any of those pull out and keep "gawd bless the Queen" posters the Mirror etc print up in people's front windows. The odd shop had a few strings of buntin in their windows apart from that it seemed like another day. Especially if you compare it to say the world cup or Halloween etc.
So I'm sure the media especially the BBC will tell us it was a big coming together and a national celebration but it all seemed a bit muted. I'd expected the odd peel of bells and a hog roast outside a country pub, the people in the shops I went into didn't mention it and the talk in the woods was mainly of bluebells and the daftness of lurchers.
It's surprising how these narrative get set up so easily and are often contrary to our own experience of events.