another perfectly good motorcycle ruined.......

Sunday, 20 April 2014

stop, look, listen, [smell, touch, feel]

                                             stop look listen,
                                           ' i'm late, i'm late, for a very important date....'
                                             just reminded me of new order for some reason.....
                                off the beaten track.
                                            'i hate duck's me....'
                                only in derbyshire......
                                             'fucking, rucking duck dastardly!'
                                           ' i'm the king of the castle, get down you dirty rascal'
                                yeah, dead subtle those, fit right in with the landscape don't they?
                                            for scale purpose only, tiny ducati, massive f''ugly wind turbines
                                friesians.
                                friesians checking out the ducati.
                                atom heart mother.


easter. i like easter me, it's like bye, bye winter, hello spring, just one thing though, how come the date changes from year to year? i'm not taking the proverbial here, i just don't understand, my birthday is the twenty-ninth of june, same every year, always has been since 1959, guess it still will be until i shuffle off this mortal coil, but easter? the resurrection of the lord,  it can be anytime in a three week period, why is that? is it to fit in with alton tower's not having their new ride finished? perhaps it's to fit in with the chancellor's budget? sky tv's new schedule? the 'next' spring sale? dunno, anyhoo, on a blustery, cold, showery day in derbyshire, [typical bank holiday weather, after a glorious week of nice, warm sunshine while we are all at work...] it's time to head out after a big breakfast, endless tea and dossing on the sofa, the dog's are just reaching cabin fever and chomping at the bit to 'get amongst it' off the lead and terrorising the local rabbit population, oryctolagus cuniculus prove too tricky even for my pair of seasoned hunters and the pesky wabbitt's dissapear underground. onto the old, disused, pit railway branch line, someone has propped up an old 'stop, look, listen' sign up against the fence where the path crosses the line, i'm suprised to see it, i thought they had all been stolen and sold on ebay to collectors of railway ephermara, a worthless warning notice and yet, today, it struck a chord with me, 'stop. look. listen' so simple and yet how often do you actually do it? i know i don't, far too busy to just follow that simple mantra. and so, today, i actually did as the sign suggested, i stopped, i looked and i listened and i added a few more things to that list, smell, touched and felt, i looked at the countryside and i saw the fucking ugly blot on the landscape and surroundings of the wind turbines above carsington reservoir,i heard the birdsong, the traffic noise and the horrible 'wusssh, wusshh, wussssh' of the turbine blades invading the afternoon, i smelt the rain and the grass and the rich, warm smell of hot oil and dry clutch plates, i felt, i felt the pull of the horizon as the big ducati pulled me towards it through the narrow,country lanes like some sort of massive rubber band, not out and out acceleration, just a feeling of 'how did that happen?'  no direct input from me, the airbox induction noise, the termi's bouncing back off the dry stone wall's, a drop of the shoulder, the slightest shift of weight see's me barrelling through corners at highly illegal speeds that would see me locked up and the key thrown away and yet it all feel's so predictable, so safe and yet so thrilling, i guess that's why we do it, dangerous yes, life affirming? definitely! i'm cold, wet and need a slash, i pull off onto a lane and park in a gateway, turn around and there's a herd of black and white friesan cow's checking out the ducati, don't know where they came from! they take me by suprise, i walk up to the gate, they shy away at first, but their curiosity get's the better of their fear and they crowd up to me, i can feel their hot breath, i notice how small their teeth are, [worn out through endless grazing on the pasture? dunno, ask a farmer], snot flowing freely, dripping onto the floor and each other, bit like myself really.............

4 comments:

  1. Old railway signs, take heed...On my shed is one a dearly departed friend of mine put up 20 some years ago...'watch your step' it says (he said it was a warning to trespassers)...great post and pics Tim...atom heart mother...like Dave says....now you've put the ear worm in me head...from an earlier album, but I'll be humming 'set the controls for the heart of the sun'...and the pic of the wind generators and your description of the 'rubber band' pulling you towards the horizon...makes me miss my Kawa Turbo 750,,,I need to get one of my bigger bikes back on the road...before I start looking at for sale advertisements, and hanging out in show rooms...man, you and your boys got some pretty nice pathways...

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  2. Surely an educated man like yerself knows that Easter Sunday falls on the first Sunday after the full moon following the March equinox? More or less, if the winds in the right direction.

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  3. Nice musings Loveless. Myself, I can only stop to smell the roses for about two minutes before I jump up and start engaging in some meaningless chore.
    Judging from the nasty, not-so-passive aggressive sign and the livestock, I'm thinking Derbyshire must be Jerkwater in some kind of right-hand-drive, slightly more temperate parallel universe. Maybe with a few less meth labs and discarded tires.

    Ah yes, spring is in the air and a young man's fancy soon turns to thoughts of love. After all, what country lad hasn't been stirred to fits of romantic passion by the hot, bovine breath of a cow in heat?

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  4. Oh GAWD you're such a vegetarian! Ha-ha.

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