Farewell summer – 31 August 2014

The sun sets for the final time on another summer
August is slipping quietly away
Day by day the sun sets a little earlier
Minute by minute the daylight is reducing
Gently, almost imperceptibly summer is dying
Hedgerows are splashed with the rich purple of ripe blackberries
The bright green cases of conkers are swelling in the chestnut tree
The acorns are already beginning to fall
Trees slowly, reluctantly letting go
Preparing for the long wintry months ahead
The fresh green leaves of spring have gone
They are darker now
Maturing with each passing day
Still remaining stubbornly green
As though unwilling to succumb to the inevitability of autumn
Little by little the season is beginning to spiral away
Fields are suddenly filled with stacks of hay
The countryside resounds to the chugging of tractors
Farmers anxious to gather in crops
Already the swifts have long gone
Swallows and house martins are preparing to leave too
Gathering like excited children on the telephone wires
Preparing for the long flight ahead
The sun which shines on them is lower now
The heat of midsummer has passed
Mornings bring a chill in the air
Grass is suddenly wet with dew
Wisps of mist drape around trees
In the town, shops have been trumpeting ‘Back to school’ for weeks
Signs in the windows a reminder to children of what is to come
Street lights come on a little earlier
Suddenly the school holidays are drawing to a close all too quickly
Each day brings the school bell a little closer
Each day seems to go a little faster
Time is running out
Cases are replaced back into dark lofts
Suntans have faded
The family holiday is long forgotten in a blur of shoe shopping for school
The page on the calendar turns again
Tomorrow, September replaces August
Autumn replaces summer
The relentless, unstoppable march of time continues

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The Old School House – 16 August 2014

The Old School House is slowly forgetting its beginnings
Much altered, the brick building now houses holidaymakers
Week by week new faces appear and vanish
The certainty brought by the school bell is at an end
Gone are the master’s old wooden desk and cane so carefully kept
The piles of school books awaiting attention are no more
The mortarboard and old school tie are now forgotten
The children, who once held the building in awe, have now left
Even the school itself has been expunged from the modern map
Where once the master cooked his bread on the fire
The toasting fork now stands unused beside an empty grate
Today, the once snug front door stands bowed
Beaten back by the weather
Slugs now slide underneath
Their paths marked by silvery trails on the carpet
Inside, the rooms have been changed
Altered beyond recognition to accommodate paying guests
The kitchen now boasts ‘all mod cons’
A dishwasher and digital radio to make those staying ‘feel at home’
Upstairs, now an ‘en suite’ with corner bath
Downstairs a playroom with its own television
The old beams that supported the master’s roof remain
Left intact to retain character
What scenes have they witnessed in their time here?
What tales could they tell us of forgotten years?
Where once the master’s dog would sit and gnaw a bone
People can now bring their own pets
Unwilling to be without them
The ceramic bathtub where once the master reclined
Contemplating his long day in silence, perhaps with a small glass
Ripped out and replaced by plastic
Silence shattered by the relentless drone of an extractor fan
Little wonder that the visitors’ book lies empty
Each completed page removed in turn
Views of former guests, like the former master’s thoughts, unknown
Perhaps it is for the best that he is no longer here
Unable to see how his former home has changed
His home, like his school, of which he was so proud
His home, where he could close the front door on the world outside
Each passing week, passing month, passing year
A little more is forgotten
A few more memories lost forever
Today, just the name remains as testament to a long-lost life
Proudly displayed beside the warped front door
The Old School House

© Phil Bray, August 2014

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The death of Robin Williams – 12 August 2014

In the early hours of this morning, news began to filter through that the actor and comedian, Robin Williams, had apparently taken his own life at the age of 63.

Here’s how the news unfolded on Twitter:

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A century on from Britain entering The Great War – 4 August 2014

One hundred years ago Britain entered World War One.  Today, the nation paused to remember.

Here’s how the day unfolded on Twitter.

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