I am an observer.
I like sitting in the window of a small cafe watching the world go by - and noticing people with particularly pretty shoes. I like sitting on the bus in the morning looking out at the rain, the changing leaves, the people just beginning their day, the shops opening, the city coming to life beyond the fog on the window. I like walking home just as dusk is falling, when the lights in the houses are switched on but the curtains aren't yet shut, catching passing glimpses of the warm yellow-lit portraits of other people's lives. I can't resist taking a sneaky peek into other shopper's trolleys at the supermarket checkout just to see what they are buying.
Most of all, I like noticing the smallest things, the things that no one else seems to be noticing (and I also like reading about the small things others have noticed and noted here and here).
Perhaps I'm just very nosy but it's amazing the things you notice when you start looking.
For example, at Carluccio's in Smithfield, London for breakfast on Sunday, I noticed...
... a Roman Catholic priest in full regalia, popping in for a quick cappuccino, presumably between masses. I'm not sure what kind of a priest he was but he had a fancy black hat with a little tassel, which naturally he removed to drink his coffee.
... two genuine pearly kings with 'Crystal Palace' embroidered on their jackets accompanied by two pearly queens in feathery hats perusing the olives in the deli before climbing into a silver Fiat and driving away.
... an extremely small schnauzer having what looked like a very exciting adventure.
... a girl with spiky hair and leggings looking equally intrigued by all this and asking everyone if she could take photographs of them.
... a group of quite silly people becoming a bit uproarious because they had noticed that the description of the mushroom risotto on the specials board appeared to read 'fresh, wild and erotic mushrooms' as opposed to 'fresh, wild and exotic mushrooms'. Actually, that was us.