Thursday 17 July 2014

A hot Summer night in 1959


The Mint leans up against the wall with its hands in its pockets, looking bored and watching the Night-Scented Stock dance.

The white, helmeted Water keeps an eye on the situation.

Outside on the roof, the West Indians sit around smoking in the warm, open air, like they did back home in the Caribbean.

Everything is as it should be.

19 comments:

  1. No, it is 2014.

    Nice to think some things can be almost the same.

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    1. I remember stopping short in my school playground in 1959, and thinking that things will never be the same, ever again.

      I have an abiding memory of forcing myself to remember that day, the end of the 1950s, and - amazingly - it worked.

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    2. And the summers were always hot and went on forever.

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    3. It has just occurred to me that when I had this thought in the playground, I was the same age as my friend's son who has just died of a broken leg.

      Now I feel as though I am in 2014.

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    4. Tom, how old were you in the summer of 1959? (edit - I see you were 8 too) I wasn't born yet. BUT the reason I ask is because I remember clearly when I was eight years old, skipping down the street in my green jeans (yes I had dyed green jeans) that life was absolutely wonderful and it wasn't always going to be this carefree.

      Then I found that (sappy but I love it) poem when I was a bit older - Reflections on a Gift of a Watermelon Pickle. Perhaps that is when I started my mental health decline.

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    5. Tom,
      Have you ever read Dandelion Wine, by Ray Bradbury? This conversation made me think of that book.

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  2. For anyone who does not already know, those metal vents on the roof outside are from the Turtle Bay Caribbean restaurant, and they smoke. It is pure coincidence that they happen to be black.

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  3. Reminded me of 'The years at the Spring, the day's at the morn. etc. Very poetic.

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  4. Replies
    1. There's another just like it marked 'hot', just out of shot.

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    2. Good for you! One shouldn't half-ass these things.

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  5. Such a lovely poetic post, evoking memories of summers past while looking out of your present day kitchen window.

    I was living in South Australia in 1959. Summer was almost unbearably hot and dry and I was in love with my handsome blonde high school classmate and athlete Frederick. Sadly not reciprocated. Though I married his Scottish double many years later. ( Pimm's has been taken this evening.)

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  6. Bloody hot and humid here today; not pleasant. I was hoping to hear it was the same in Bath, but you've deleted.

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  7. He was feeling unstable so he went to lie down on his bed.

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