After an overcast start and a forecast saying not much chance of rain, I walked out to the furthest point of Scarborough’s south bay, which was typically was when the deluge struck. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem but being stuck on the side of a cliff on paths of slaloming sinuously into repeated chicanes, it becomes somewhat more problematic getting anywhere in a hurry.
Hot footing it back to the town centre I hid in various bookstores (of which more in another post) before finally exiting out into a bright and sunny day. It’s great to be here out of season with less crowds and an actual view of where you are going but balancing that is the habit the locals have of crossing my walking line at an angle to get to their destinations, which is no bother as I adjust accordingly…but when their decisive diagonal becomes a gentle arc back across my path and ends up aiming at the side of the street they just came from; well it’s a bit much and plenty of tutting has been bandied about of late, that’ll show ’em!
The sea front of this bay is much more commercial with the harbour fair and amusement arcades, accompanied with that cacophonous symphony universal to such places, that doesn’t seem to have changed since I was a child. Mingling with this is the smell of the sea air, chips and friend onions not to mention candyfloss which is a heady and classic mix of magic to the olfactory senses. Continue reading “South Bay, Rainy Day”
I decided to add an optional soundtrack to this post so if you wish some aural accompaniment scroll down to the bottom for the marvellous Anxious Heart from the old yet fantastic Playstation game Final Fantasy VII. The music first features (if memory serves) whilst the player negotiates a hazardous train graveyard and that is a good enough if slightly tenuous link for the post but also I think it fits so that’s alright then.
I came across this photo by accident and after marvelling at all the details it had to offer, sat wondering where such a tunnel would lead.
The obsolete railway line glimpsed briefly as I thunder by, peels off to a bygone era. Overgrown and untended its track leads to the melancholy past. Glimpsed through a steamed up window in cold weather, my thoughts melt into the heat of the train and the rhythmic gyrations lead me to doze and imagine the end of that forgotten line: Continue reading “A Thoughtful Sidetrack”
Chemical reactions create perfect bubbles. The reality of a dream encased in each… of a thousand worlds soaring through air and liquid. Unique abstractions encapsulated in fleeting moments…
before dissipating into the ether.
Where the bubbles burst,
the oneiric wonders gravitate towards the inventive imaginations of the thoughtful.
a natural home for chimeras of the most astonishing kind.
Somewhere there is one such place I know…
containing infinite mysteries, more than one imagination can envision.
A region not yet fully grasped,
of epeiric seas and mountains, looming over spectacular vistas of forest and ruins,
where I am equally at home yet conversely a foreigner in that land.
Perpetually reinvented over time, I long to be there evermore,
To find my way to a place where I can become saturated in that world and lose myself forever.
It begins, as it always does. A sudden recognition of my situation, this time sitting outside on a bench in the sun. The bench is one of those metal ones that retains its coldness despite how long you sit there and has a lattice back, it’s also blue but the paint is flaking. At right angles from me is another bench and a man sits there, he has long blonde hair and for some reason I know he is Australian.
Looking at my surroundings, there are plenty of shops lining the thoroughfare, it’s quiet here despite that, perhaps it is not one of the main arteries of the town. There are trees at regimental intervals with lush green leaves which seem to revel in the sunshine they bask in. I have a book naturally, and it rests on my knees open, the ideas of page leafs and tree leaves amuses me.
I hear a bang above me and look up, the buildings rise three stories and one of the windows opening has startled the peaceful scene. There is a lady there with dark hair, she waves at me, well I assume its me but in these situations you never know, so that mortified do-I-acknowledge-said-person-or-not worry kicks in. After waving back like a reckless fool, a bit of paper is thrown from the window which flutters towards me which I expertly snatch out of the air. Continue reading “Town Encounter”
Bear with me it’s just gone 3:10 in the AM and I’m writing this for a post later on this afternoon which in my infinite wisdom I probably won’t edit at a better time of day, it begins thusly:
Whilst attempting to emulate Martin Luther King and have a dream, whilst at the same time be as non fussy about it, in the process as Joseph, he of the technicoloured dream coat (‘any dream will do’), I hit upon a strange nostalgic dream, that covered a varied amount of things.