Comrie: Memories and Melancholy

Happy childhood, fond memories ….a haunted Victorian house, dens in the woods, climbing trees, swimming in the river, walks through the woods with a beloved pet.

The float parade, the Hay ride, guising on Halloween, and the Flambeaux on Hogmany.

The Royal Bar…pulling pints, old village “worthies”,  the 5 o’clock club,  the regulars, the gossip…a daily soap opera… theme tunes echoing from the jukebox.

A persistant customer…flattery and pursuit…an addictive romance…fame and fortune.

Japanese Knotweed… memories of our “jungle” in the woods

The “Black Pool”…swimming in deep water…floating on homemade rafts…a rope swing over the pool.

Uprooted…removed from whence they came…helpless and exposed…aged and decaying…awaiting the inevitable…

Roots searching…dried and brittle…seeking nourishment…thirsty for life

Campfire songs….sausages sizzling…fun and laughter…burnt to a cinder…

Clearing across the river….strangers  drinking beer…fugitives enjoying… their last days of freedom

A handsome stranger…an invitation….an erotic encounter….a deep and fast flowing river…now a trickling stream

Christmas afternoon….snow and ice…walking with my father and brother…snow crunching underfoot…crossing icy streams

Once majestic…broken and splintered…mossy monuments of melancholy

An intimate picnic…strawberries and alco-pops…expectations…disappointment

A fresh white carpet…muddy footprints…traces of our presence…and new beginnings

Rotting carcass…predators feasting…hollow and helpless

Memories distant…fleeting moments…ghosts of the past…mortality confirmed

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