Opening wide a hazy head. The excesses of the night before, a virtual time travel vacation. A conversation about Michael Jacskon’s Bad leading to 1987. The year once reinstated sent us down a path of cocktail making. A tournament in fact. Scoring for maverick-ness, taste, looks and 1987-ness, with a consideration for reaction and plagiarism. The rest of this part of the tale is (as you may guess) now forged in the great halls of drunken-ness.
So hazy head and a late mid-day awakening. Breakfast in a bap at the appropriately named Munchies. A delightful sunny blue day; my shorts and sandles finally striding once more. It amazes me how a place like the quaint (gentrified) fishing town of Aldeburgh can change so dramatically in the cover of night.
Drifting into shape shifting dreams, lovers of the past rolled into one, persecutors from my dawning, dancing with the depths of my psyche. Leaving behind a wet raining town, rising to a light flooded tourist magnet. Occurrence of the fastest kind, a circumstance of nature joyfully inflicted on the paths of many by the shore.
Amaretto and Cherry ice cream in hand my adventure started once more. A mission lay in front of us, pursuit of the Elderflower. As we wandered along a delightfully beautiful country path I couldn’t help but wonder how lucky we all are to experience such wonder and bliss.
The tickling long grass and reed forming an inviting tunnel forward. Their nemesis the nettles and thistles protecting from further foraging and in their own way urging us onwards, as if stopping was against the law. Our nature pipe, a real living dream, evolved it’s cover. Trees spilling and forging upwards wrapping over and around us, a wonderfully mystical feeling of calm; for now our place.
Our travels continued deeper through huge open expanses bordered with trees and blasts of colour, ‘party fields’ our local guides revealed to us (at least in theirs and now our dreams). Rusty brown cattle and a fence to match. I pondered their fanning ears and seemingly joyful tail wiggles. Meeting with some comrades we filled our bags with the enchantingly sweet smelling Elderflowers. A bizarre yet immensely satisfying waddle in a mud puddle, refreshed and onwards for more adventure.
By this time pleasingly I had resumed my state of child, letting it fully manifest once more. An eternal infant of the world, floating in a bubble of joy, a fantasy in a real world. Pausing our legs for a moment we dwelled in the shade of a bright leaf laden tree. Surrounded by the (only) random, song of nature. Bird’s singing, calling, maybe relaying their joy or sorrow. As I laid and gazed upwards, the translucent sparkle of leaves against the sunny blue sky enabled me to atone my eyes to a hidden world. Watching in awe as spiders almost flew from a large gap between trees directly over my head. Zooming into my peripheral a frantic dance of small flies must have surely been their quest.
I became flooded by a feeling and desire to love, to allow it to penetrate and radiate from my center. Connecting with everything and everyone but allowing it to focus on a someone or something close. A target for my affections, a reflector who wants and gives. Allowing themselves to see and reveal, to grow and adore.
Our next steps found us at a derelict house. Chancing a sign designed to scare us off, we hoped over a fence. Injecting further excitement into our playful Enid Blyton tale: “The now famous four”. The house stood tall and grand with vast pitted gables, one with deer like antlers exuding from a linked tree invasion at its heart. Ornate stone and wood work now de-shevled. We questioned it’s state and location and looked for more. An opening and a sluice, two boats, temptation, beauty, water and a whole lot more.
The calls of children playing led our eyes and ears to a point not far from us. A lovely little sailing boat anchored, with it’s child crew playing on a surprisingly sandy shore. We ventured to reach them, again chancing this place we deemed as private, asking for more… Then in a glimmer we saw a couple sat on a lord like manor cruiser. A golf cart adapted to a woodland terrain. We stopped and turned on the spot, pacing away like kids avoiding a telling, escaping into the woods. We had experienced our fair share and our day was yet concluded. So this is not the end of the day, but yet the fruit from it’s enchanted core.
