In the spirit of spring cleaning I collected together my past writings, that is in their physical manifestation, for the computer database of my work is not yet anywhere near a useful realisation.
In and among I found a booklet which also contained addresses for potential employment; I must have sent out dozens of CV’s before landing my dream job at Watercombe on Dartmoor.
Sometimes the wait is worth it; I was fortunate to be able to take my time, most are not so lucky. The small spiral wrapped notepad was a gift from Sarah, who now lives in Thailand; how times change.
Watercombe In The Mirror
That late May afternoon
Twenty-six years or more ago
I climbed the five bar gate
Walked two thousand metres
Over the pipeline
I kicked stones down to the river
Whistled to the sheep
Who appeared to be reasonably settled
By the trout pass I took off my boots
Dangled my feet into the water
My laughter trapped in the bowl
Of the wrapped around hillside
Only now the laughter