Sunny day visit

The sun came out. Not that it brought much heat with it, but it brought the desire to find green space and be in it. We drove up to Beachy Head and caught the morning light up above the Seven Sisters. Fresh and not so crowded, Eastbourne below us, looking out over the channel with no real guilt about the fact it’s supposed to be a working day because I mean, seriously? Nothing is going on. Certainly nothing much is going on in my industry. People trying to work out if they can program something without it being shut down. People who have been running historic buildings just about successfully for years reaching the end of the line after too much impossibility. Everybody worrying about money. The administration hoping that it’s only a matter of time before we all go into cyber.

We didn’t stay too long up on those cliffs. The area is beautiful but there’s something in the fabric of the web up there that is inevitably about despair. Too many people over too many years. We were feeling bright in the sun but we moved on pretty quickly. A moment though. And a moment of thought for those I’ve known who went off that edge.

We drove down a way and walked near the holy well, through Helen’s Gardens, thinking how lucky the denizens of Eastbourne are to have easy access, and how unforgivable those few idiots are who’ve been chucking their barbeque sauce pots and wrappers and cans and cups into the hedges for decades. What percentage of society chucks litter? How has it not been utterly stigmatised by now? It’s the only downside, really. And masks lying around are the new thing, here right by the sea. Your gift to posterity. Sixty years after you die and you’ll watch that mask kill a bird from purgatory and oops that’s another thousand years fuck and that’s another ten damn and another fifteen crumbs yeah that one’s ok.

Then the late afternoon Lou joined me as I caught up with an old family friend – one that I should’ve seen so much more of over the decades. United again by the sudden death of poor dear Sophie. She had been trying to get us into the same room as each other for so long, and I wish she’d been there as we met. United by our love of our lost friend, I think we will see a great deal more of each other from now on. Such a sad catalyst, but so good to see her, and living pretty close to Lou.

A good day of healthy unemployment. Brisk walks and good company. Despite having earned nothing all day, we went out for dinner at Bill’s in Lewes and then we looked at incredible places to stay on our weirdly cheap impulse holiday booked for the end of the month. Man I can’t wait. The options are all so good and affordable at this time of year that we are spoilt for choice.

Now we are exhausted. We crashed out. Well, Lou did. I’m close behind.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: