A weekly Journal?
Maybe the purpose of this journal blog in my life should simply be to remind me how quickly time passes, especially with the last week's good weather.
How we drove in both directions along the East coast roads, unsuccessfully looking for the Watts for Tea cafe, where we remembered their selection of delectable cakes.
Also how such a long, long queue, had formed at the ice cream parlour, such that we didn't join it then, but we did call twice, later in the week.
And a shout out to those nice people from the Environmental Agency, who have put steps up to the top of the hills and dunes at Rimac. Nice one.
This was the week of the European Super League. A failed attempt to nudge the status quo, which was widely rounded on as opportunism. They will be back.
To close? Well, the Brackenborough Arms allowed us to reserve a table in the sun, there to serve their finest Carlsberg lager, and beer-battered fish and chips, with mushy peas of course. Good on you.
The poem is:
Triggered Repeat
One life is in shadow
One life is in plain sight
In this way
Both are hidden
From the outsider's view
There is little or no conversation
Among the chiaroscuro
Small steps may have been taken
Yet it is the in silence
Where the giant strides are made
From hotel bedrooms
To solid stone archways
From museums and galleries
To ice creams
Taken in the square
On the ledge
Watching and waiting
For others to appear
A new letter is written
As if from the third man
All nonsense
And missed conversations
With the invisible beauty
Hidden by ether and distance
Covered by joy and sadness
