Surreal Teens and Time

Time is relentless.

I read yesterday that a Trans Atlantic sailing in 1606 took six weeks to get out of sight of England, and yet just 400 or so years later Phil Collins could sing in London at the Live Aid event and be on stage for the second evening of his day at the New York leg.

One of my children is now an adult and yet it was only yesterday, in my dementia, that he was holding my hand as we walked along the street.

The neighbour has come and decimated the wilderness meadow that adjoins the house, the crickets are stunned into temporary silence and four mammoth balls of hay stand sentinel like in the corner watching the summer burn past.

Already next weekend is midsummer’s eve, the nights will start their shortening and the corn its ripening.

But the question everyone should be asking is, will the Surreal Teens take the stage on Saturday night?