Day Out

It looks like we shall finally have our day out. No bookings so far. The sun is out and it’s not yet seven. There are clouds but they are those lovely dappled ones with lots of blue in between. The mornings are taking a little longer to come and I am sad for it. The summer has reached its peak and it will soon begin to fall into autumn. I heard the cries of the oystercatchers again as I walked through the dark, way over the sea. There is a sweet smell that I always catch when I begin that small ascent onto North Road. It smells like confectionery, something sticky, like those red licorice shoelaces. Is it from the pizza take away shop?

He was a little wobbly yesterday. It can come and go. He gets unsettled.

We couldn’t sit on the cricket field yesterday afternoon as the primary school next door was having its sports day. We ambled towards the cemetery instead in search of peace and quiet and a bench. We found a bench but not the quiet that he would have desired. Well, really, he said, furious that two women chose to sit behind us on the circular bench. And people kept coming, using the path as a way into town via The Avenue. It didn’t discomfort me, I was happy to sit in the sun and dream. The graveyard was over grown and blooming, rather beautifully.

It will be good to be off. To drink tea in the sun out of a heavy metal pot and let the day slide into dreaminess. I’m tired. Too many dreams last night.

He liked it. I am buoyed up to continue.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.