Monthly Archives: August 2017

Our debriefing place!

Looking due East from my vantage point on Porth Island on the outskirts of Newquay seemed the most idyll place in the world to me as a child.Far away from the angst of a crowded home,with all it’s attendant emotion detritus,I could just empty my head there and bathe myself in the supersonic booms of the Atlantic as it buffeted the Island.That word Island I suppose was using a measure of poetic license,as it really was part of the North  Cornish coastline,and was never a separate entity,but we locals used that term.

On winter days,it was  deserted ,and the East wind would get up making it appear 

 Be  nigh on impossible to stand up ,at least,that is what it appeared like for a,young pre teen such as moi.Those days following a difficult lesson when things with Bach or Buxtehude just didn’t work for my tiny brain enabled me to  go debrief myself as I sat and just let the great outdoors soothe me of that technical stuff like pedal technique,fingering positions,endless scales,new music new music,dynamics ,working for a concert and services at the church.Honestly,I hear my sisters talk about how poor we all were,and I hear their words,but I never picked up what they  meant back then.This has been a theme of my life of being  motivated by  things  of a physical nature and especially if folk start to moan about their lot in life.To me,growing up less than ten miles from a breathtaking coastline was a real life  saver to me and one that I consider myself so lucky to access even now.

In those days,the tourist season was far shorter and you felt as if you “got your beaches back ” after the end of August.Granted,there were a smattering of visitors who might venture west of Exeter after the end of August,but this time of year signalled the end of summer and into the change in the weather.You could feel it in the air,so to speak,but it didn’t put me off going  to Porth Island it just strengthened my resolve to appreciate it even more.

Nowadays,with the proliferation of social media,I find it wonderful to witness those who visit the Island there at Porth and who have embraced it as their own too.It just seems right.With people flying drones around the place,it also gives a person like me a window into its present day pulse,it’s,life force so to speak,and I hope that it will sustain the curiosity of many many more folk in the generations to come.

As this blog post is fast becoming  the unofficial Newquay tourist board plug for Porth ,then I make my apologises but it was a thought that came into my mind,and I wanted to share it,as is my want.

Do you have a favourite place that you have visited since childhood?Did it help wth your life at that time?In these days when we have to be so careful with the welfare four children,those days were the Halycon times for freedom and “lashngs of ginger beer” type freedoms.

As I close my eyes,I can imagine the tide at this time of the day ,and it is like an emotional blanket or an old eiderdown over my body,and with that “Here endeth my metaphysical muse journey for today”


This day!

This day,with its ups and downs,

This day,with all the things I’ve done,

This day,never demanding to be more than it is,

This day,existing in its own time window,

This day is almost done,almost done,

When all are,as Pepys would say:”At bed”

My mind racing in Hamilton lines,

Leaves behind the sedate pace of a settled mind,

This day,will leave in just over 15 minutes,

This day,this day will be ,my history.

My loose end .

When at a loose end,you find out about yourself in odd ways.What I mean is this,when we are at a lose end,and that might be for a few mins,or a few hours or maybe even a few days,what we chose to do when th that time is often revealing and informative.

I’m at a loose end now ,truth be told,not for hours,but maybe for the next hour an hour or so. Score I go to visit my son.Yes,I could read a book I suppose,listen to some music,play the piano,Hoover up the lounge,the list will go on and on,but I prefer to record it in my muse for this dayBy writing it ,seeing it on the screen,I like the process,the journey that it will take through the ether is fascinating to me.Yes,I understand that the sheer demands on all of us to read things on line can ,and probably are ,quite overwhelming ,if not impossible.However,that is a choice that we all have,darling not we.We darling not have to read,we don’t have to like,we don’t have to respond.

My point is that I like to write to remember that I’m alive ,the way I love to play music or do anyting creative,it fuels my inner person so to speak.So,my lose end is filled more form than not,by writing random thoughts that get launched out there in cyberspace.If people read it,excellent.F they think it has some value ,then great,but even if they don’t read my stuff,I’m still happy that nw,in this moment,at this time,I wrote that because if I dcould don’t everything would be bottled up as it were,cmsumed internally.

Like a lady very Garden that is tended and cultivated but never viewed by there,that,that me,is a waste a travesty of time and money.Far better it be shared and enjoyed by others.

So,my loose  end is almost done,thank you for indulging it.


My wonderful meeting this morning. 

This morning,oh at around 8:30,I went for a jog in the adjoining forest where I live.It was quiet then,and my reason on this bank holiday in getting out was to jog before it got too hot,which,of course,it did.So,as I entered the forest ,the information on n my Strava told me that I wasn’t jogging too fast-about 8 KPH.Really,I wasn’t expected to be fast today,so I didn’t worry much about this stat.However,as I looked up to resume my jog,across my path,maybe 100 metres away was this majestic dear looking straight at me.You know when you get that feeling that time stops,well that he s what it was like fr me at that time,and I was,from r that nano secret no mesmerized by this way nderful animal.Yes,I was trespassing ,a foreigner so to speak,alien to to life and maybe a potential danger to its existence.

As it’s gaze homed in on me,I tried to look different neared slightly in my rider nt t cause it alarm in order to engage with to space as if to say:”Thank you for letting me share your space on this bright morning”.As I strolled off,I was reminded of a week in Exmoor recently where I hoped to spy a red dear in its natural habitat.During that week,try as I may to locate one,I was,alas,unsuccessful.Now,not .2 of a kilometre from my house as the Strava device indicated,I saw this young doe,resplendent in its natural beauty,and I was humbled to share its space for that brief time and the rest of my run was occupied with how grateful I was to see that dear this morning.

This was my blog post for today,and it made me think that some wonderful things come to us without us having t search too far to see them as was the case with me today.



Today,the sun is out and the sky is blue and true,

Today,the birds are singing their Sunday anthems,

Today,it’s quiet outside as the trees in the background confide ,

Today,the things that I can see reflect the silent hedgerows keep,

Today,what I can see of nature is enough .and what I hear is a fountainhead.


Bude to Lands End.

Drawing breath,he pulled himself up from the cliff to the edge of the coast path.There was a wind up,mild South Westerly,but still wild enough to take you on a downward fall of over 60 feet ,so it wasn’t an option for anyone to consider.Wild coastal flowers decorated the cliff face at this time of the year,and there scents meshed with the saltiness of the sea air to create an aroma of wildness that seduced him as a child,and still had the same affect in him as he became older.

These rocks are visited by the Atlantic breakers twice a day,assaulted you could say,smashed in storms,bashed even in moderate times you could say,and you just have to marvel at the sheer ruggedness of the scenery that your surrounded by.When,in Summer,the sun creates that bright light that just commands our rapt attention to such a degree that it intoxicates us and we lose track of time and space becoming obsessed with the moment.

Oh,how those Summer days give way when the weather turns to the East winds that grow up in the bowels of the sea ,surfacing the shore,given vent to its split personality and moods ,so much so,that it breaks us if we are not prepared for it.Yes,the weather is king along  the hinterland of Cornwall from Bude to Lands End.

Would he climb that day to the top of King Arthur’s castle at Tintagel?Would he do that,or would he be afraid of those Atlantic demons that had inhabited the minds of s many locals for generations of time.Such beauty,such majestic monoliths ,like Greek Gods looking down as superior beings to us.

So,those cliffs talked to us all,held in their Palms bird life and bird song.Now ,drones fly over their apex into their Nadir ,trying to find out their clandestine ways,but never fully knowing .How could they,as their secrets are in the lap of the Gods.Why,oh worthy cliffs that gold back the Atlantic don’t erode no more,stay as you are.But,as the writer pens the words,the futility of things remaining the same is ,of itself non sensical,you can’t argue with the Atlantic,you can’t appease her either.Yes,like all things if absolute beauty,there is always another side,a sharpness,a insensitive voice in its secure facade.

But,and it’s a big but,you can’t change the hinterland yourself,you just have to accept her for what she is niw.Why next year,she might have changed,she might have eroded,been taken up by Poseidon.So,you have to accept,for you have no other way of living ,you can’t make a deal with the coastline.

Let’s  climb up upon the cliff top to Trevor’s,to Port Isaac,to Happy Valley,to Boscastle and Tintagel and never ever take her for granted.


Through the sun in the tall tress,he heard sounds that echoed sound bites of vibrations that penetrated to his inner self.Never were there too many observations quite so potent for this life lover.It seemed an odd thing to say:”Life lover”,but that was what he was,no,not through things going well all the time,but from appreciation of the good in life.That smile,that squeeze as f the hand,that offer of a cup of tea,they were all treasured up ,never forgotten.

When the days become short,and the dark evenings come,as they surely must soon,can we occupy a memory?I mean,a sundrenched forest with the warmth on my back,can I remember that when those cold mornings usher in a different more negative experience,When the tough stuff happens,we think that they will never stop,but when the good days happen,we might reason cynically that they can’t ever last.

By way of balance,we understand that nothing lasts forever,but we must also get that by the same token,negative things won’t last indefinitely.

I’m reminded of a pupil from many ears back who had major issues with anxiety brought on by a serious assault.For years ,they were unable to live a meaningful life,but slowly,but by bit,they able to rebuild,and I had a tiny part to play in their life renaissance as it were.Yes,we can’t have rose tinted glasses in life as that isn’t practical,but we can also have hope too,and hope is a wonderful disposition .

So,today,I’ve enjoyed this morning in the forest at Moors Valley Country Park,with the sun on my back with so many ways nderful people.Yes,it might not be the same the next time I visit,but today it has been good.

Thank you for your attention.


Being at peace with others,

Being at peace with yourself.

Want to sharpen your mind,

Be curious about the world.

Want a better environment,

Start by looking after yours.

Wish you had more friends,

Start by being one to others.

Want your children to study hard,

Set the example yourself .

If you want to change things,

Start by making your own bed.



My sisters used to work in a knitting factories,and they used to love Fridays because it was hard work and repetitive.When Fridays came around ,they would talk about turning the machines off early in the afternoon,and having the radio on and dancing.

I would soak up the joy on their faces,and think how they always made the best of their lives even though it can’t have been easy.So now,when it’s Friday,I often think of them turning their machines off in the afternoon,and having a dance.I never knew if they had a drink,maybe some Pop I suppose,or a cup of tea,very raced,no Proscecco for them eh.
     Well,that’s just my thought this morning.
  Happy Friday.


My Pace of Life.

It’s just after nine here ,I’m sitting in the lounge and as if to alert me to their existence,I hear the birds singing in the trees to the right of my back door.Maybe they were there for hours,I could not know,or maybe I just attended to them less,whatever the case,now I hear them.

Their tones this morning as the suns rays seal through the trees makes for me a pastoral scene.As the commuter traffic recedes into their workstations,I reflect that life has different paces for different peopleLike the setting of the metronome as its ticks like clockwork,setting our pace.

In the morning ,I’m a Largo-Lento kinda of man.Yes,I’m slow to wake from the night sleep,and in particular ,a broken nights sleep.As the morning progresses,I build up my pace to Andante,which means a walking pace.Now,I’ve been know t stay at Andante for a few hours ,or graduate to Allegretto or Moderator,tempos which are,in musical parlance medium pace,or second of third gear type .

Now,after breakfast,it’s Hobson choice,if I get out for a run,then I’m Allegro meaning lively,then if I’m feeling very energetic I will move up to the -for me,at least-turbo gears,which makes me feel rather good.Now.obviusly ,I can’t keep up my Presto,or Vivace speeds up,but I like the feeling of these paces .

Now,often people say hat they want a more leisurely pace of life,which,of course,is very understandable as many folks work extremely long hours with very little respite.However,as their are so many different tempo settings in music,there are also many different pace settings for life.We know that living our life at Presto pace isn’t a good thing,but we also know that we can’t forever be at Largo or Lento,that IRS good for us to enjoy the feeling of starting off the day sometimes at say Allegretto rather than that lethargic Lento until mid morning when we finally employ a little bit of accelerando ,moving through our gears so to speak and capturing a little bait of Allegro con brio (Lively with vigour) in our lives.So,whatever we do,we learn much from a variable pace .

So,today,I would like to set my metronome four or five times ,according to how I want to live each part of my day.By having the Italian terms as guide lines ,I find it helps me with the various paces that I find I have in my day.

    So,if you’ve found this personal take on my “Pace of Life” interesting ,look out for other quirky takes on life from my standpoint .Thank you.