Last Saturday, I finally went to visit my doctor- something I had been putting off for some time. My list of complaints included a rasping cough, an irritating cold, a painful earache, a fugitive fever, and various other aches and pains.
My doctor is an elderly gentleman who's always immaculately dressed in crisp whites and has an endearing bedside manner. He's above seventy-five and he enjoys a conversation with whoever passes by his chamber. He takes time to listen, to sympathise, and even ask about your parents and how your job is going. This time I found him talking to a young fellow - a school teacher as I came to realize as he spoke about his sore throat and headache. The doctor nodded as he listened attentively, asking the occasional question and making the correct noises to express his understanding and sympathy. I loved how he calmed down the young man, made him feel appropriately important about his scholarly status and then instructed him not to yell too much at his students. A few minutes later, I received the same attention and care. The visit itself seemed to work some part of the cure.
While I was waiting, I happened to notice the old fashioned door knocker/ring handle on the door. I couldn't resist slipping out my camera for a quick shot. What a find it was - a simple thing but with so much character from years of peeled paint and weathering.