6 July 2012
Today I saw a man cutting a hedge and the smell transported me back to a different time, a different place, when my own father used to cut our hedges. When summer was summer, and there was no confusion in the seasons. When outside was our own entertainment, playing football with my brother for hours in the garden or pretending my fathers shed was my very own house. When you left the house in the morning to go exploring with your friends, playing on pipes over rivers or building dens in the wood. Only coming home when you were hungry. When sun cream was only for holidays abroad and our faces full of freckles and smiles. When the ice cream van used to sell sweets and pop, and 99's were 99p. When children didn't care what label they wore. All brown cords and dodgy polo necks. When children were allowed to be children. No make up parties for me, or soft play centres, playing kirby across the road, risk what's risk?
Were these halcyon days, the days of white dog poo, no these are just the good memories I have chosen so that I can filter out the bad. Funny how smells create the most vivid of memories.
A Summers Reflection • Opuss № I