Saturday 8 December 2012

Well, here I am again. But why? Today, an image came to me, of a time some 32 years ago. It was at the head of a valley in the North York Moors, near Dalby, a summer evening. I remember that when I rode my motorbike over the crest of the hill, I looked down into the valley and the smoke form the chimneys of the half dozen or so cottages was sleepily rising straight up.. a night without a breath of wind. A warm summer evening, with nothing to distract but a warm touch of air as I rode down the lazy zigzag road to the valley floor.. I bought a motorbike that night, a BSA 250 Starfire, when all of my friends were buying Yamahas or Hondas. I don't really know where I'm going with this, other than to say that there are perfect moments -times when the world and the mind conspire to make a memory so perfect that it fells like a chapter from a favourite book. These jewels exist, and more than that, have an existence that make life worth the living.  Yes, the example I have given is a little asinine, a little trite, but this is because it is just that - an example. The real jewels won't be shared, won't be spoken of here. They will be wrapped close to my heart and squeezed into my soul...and those who matter will be there.