April 18th 2014.
Good Friday.


AN ISLAND IN A SEA OF SUNSHINE

Driving along a narrow, winding road, hugging the Trent Bank on our right hand side while flat as a billiard table fields lay to our left. Open and exposed, they presented an expansive and sprawling vista unimpeded by neither hedge nor fence. Naked trees punctuated the scene like stark exclamation marks, basking in the warming sunshine preparing for summers verdant cloak to soften their outline. Overhead the Sun, in a massively wide blue sky, was just beginning its steady descent towards the horizon, quite high as yet and warm still, but the working day was drawing to a close and elastic shadows were lengthening. The uneven road, an ancient route squeezed between river and field, bumped and bucked playfully, forcing us to drive slowly, which we were only too happy to do, savouring every joyful moment of this beautiful sunny, late afternoon. The sun streamed brightly through the windscreen filling us with its warmth, allowing us to drive with the windows down, letting the sweetly fragrant spring air flood in, invigorating and cleansing us, finally banishing the last of winters stuffiness. The undulating ribbon of broken and patched Tarmac meandered gently, drifting away from the bank, a small, white, single story cottage appeared on our right, neat and compact, a short distance from the road. A rough, dirt drive left the road at an acute angle, quickly arriving at a wooden five bar gate. Leaning on the gate a man and a woman looked out across the fields the bright sun on their backs. Perhaps in their late Forties maybe early Fifties, she had shoulder length Chestnut hair, tied back loosely, the work of the day causing  it to spill free from its insecure restraint. She wore a denim shirt open at the neck, she looked healthy and glowed the way one does after a day of satisfying labour, doing something you like. Her arms rested on top of the gate her hands clasped before her, looking at a spot twenty feet in front  she listened, a relaxed smile sat easily on her face. He stood to her right, lean and a just little shorter than she, half turned towards her his short cropped hair shone grey in the sun. His stance was almost identical to hers, but he leaned slightly in her direction, his face animated with good humour, as we approached we could see his lips forming the words that held her attention. A small neatly tended garden clung to all sides of that pretty cottage and beyond that, wide acres of blossoming, yellow flowered Oilseed Rape completely surrounded them. A tiny island, adrift in a dazzling sea of Sunshine. There is absolutely nothing, nor any combination of things; no amount of stuff in the whole of this world, that is equal in wealth to five seconds, of leaning on that gate, at the end of a day such as this, with your squeeze by your side, just chewing the fat. That scene, briefly seen, beautiful in its timeless simplicity caught in my throat, I looked across at the old man sat beside me, he saw it too. He didn't say so, but I knew, I could see it in his face. In his eyes I could see he wanted to say, but he daren't, he too saw that beauty and it stirred memories not deeply concealed, he wanted to speak, just to say that it was a nice image, but he remained silent. You see, no matter how hard he tried to keep his voice controlled and even, the short sentence would have started falteringly and ended in wet sobs. His eyes met mine for a brief moment; I knew; he knew I knew, he turned his head away, silently and looked out the window. We bounced along the road, talked about the weather, how things have changed since he was a boy, he used to know this land around here, but now he forgets. Shortly after we arrived in Gainsborough meeting my brother and his wife accompanied by their son and his fiancée, where we enjoyed a very convivial Fish and chip supper. As we drove home that brief moment came up again, he wanted to talk about it, his eyes filled with tears and sadness. It's a hard road and long, it's not going to get any better, confused and bewildered he's not handling it very well. Love and light to him, for what it's worth.