Albion

A thousand miles, a thousand miles.

Distance is arbitrary, time is relative.

Someone is walking; it feels like a thousand miles but in fact it has only been a few minutes; it is, of course, night.

The road on which he walks is narrow, high hedges line each side and the night air is touched with the scent of honeysuckle.

A car is approaching; the walker hears it before he sees it. There is nowhere to go, so he stops and holds out his thumb. The car stops.

It is a Jaguar, low, sleek and silver; it stops and he sits in the back and the Jaguar purrs away along the lanes, through the night and the honeysuckle.

The radio is on, late night Jazz.

John Coltrane, A Love Supreme.

Two men in the front seats talk softly about life, love and loss.

“I don’t want to die here, but where will it be?”says the one who is driving.

“Maybe it’s the wrong question?”The passenger pauses, “ Maybe you should be asking, where do I want to live?”

In the back seat he listens to the conversation, the music and the murmurs of the night outside; he is but a child. Tomorrow he will swim in the sea with his friends, but tonight he will sleep in the doorway of a church as the car is not going to the sea, even though the sea is everywhere around.

At the end of the lanes.

Behind the church.

In all of their dreams.

The music on the car radio changes, the Rolling Stones are singing.

Faith has been broken 
Tears must be cried
Let's do some living 
After we die

The passenger starts singing softly; “wild horses, couldn’t drag me away, wild wild horses…”

 

It is deeper night when the car stops and he steps out, saying goodnight and thank you. The Jaguar purrs away to a different beginning and he walks towards the church. The air is damp and the scent of the honeysuckle is starting to fade: an owl calls.

He has a sleeping bag and uses his rucksack as a pillow, settling into the shelter of the church doorway and the lord’s embrace, though it has been some time since he believed. The last time he prayed was before his exams and now he thinks that he should try to pass them on merit not prayer.

Or take the Lord seriously, and give him a capital letter.

 

In the morning he wakes before the first light; he is chilled despite the sleeping bag so he stands and walks again.

It is not far; his friends will still be sleeping. He will wake them and surprise them , and then they will swim in the sea under the cliffs that once held Camelot.

This is Albion.

This is the time.