Saturday 24th and Sunday 25th September 1938
Sultry weather – nature in sympathy with the war-laden atmosphere of Europe. Led a ramble through Hockley Woods; had tea at “The Bull”.
Took Lois and her cousin out in the evening. Cider at a country pub. Dolcie had a pint, Lois and I two pints. After we’d all gone into Oakdene for a moment, Lois ran out again to me, as I hesitated by the car…
Sultry weather, still. Mad Willy came down to see me. We went to a pub; a café, on the Pier. We listened to the people: War? War? War?
Called for Lois in the evening. The three of us had a picnic tea she’d prepared, sitting in the car at Wakering Stairs. She played some records of opera, whilst Mad Willy sat entranced. Singing doesn’t appeal to me so much as other things. But it was silent around; I gazed seawards. The Broomway wound across the dim wet flats. The figures of two men trudging out in the distance seemed fantastic, mystical. A red light winked in, out, above the mist. All these things blended with a high clear note of song, into… something breathtaking.
Took Lois and her cousin out in the evening. Cider at a country pub. Dolcie had a pint, Lois and I two pints. After we’d all gone into Oakdene for a moment, Lois ran out again to me, as I hesitated by the car…
Sultry weather, still. Mad Willy came down to see me. We went to a pub; a café, on the Pier. We listened to the people: War? War? War?
Called for Lois in the evening. The three of us had a picnic tea she’d prepared, sitting in the car at Wakering Stairs. She played some records of opera, whilst Mad Willy sat entranced. Singing doesn’t appeal to me so much as other things. But it was silent around; I gazed seawards. The Broomway wound across the dim wet flats. The figures of two men trudging out in the distance seemed fantastic, mystical. A red light winked in, out, above the mist. All these things blended with a high clear note of song, into… something breathtaking.
posted by Paul Wilson at 2:43 pm
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