The unnamed sculpture

I had a lovely dream this morning. You know the ones that come just before you open your eyes, half awake, half asleep. You know you don’t want to lose it, but you always do. The story is there when you open your eyes, but as much as you try, it fades from your grasp. So here I am before breakfast, scribbling as fast as I can.

It was a warm spring day. I was of an undetermined age and I was alone, walking from our house in North Ormesby, across the common and over the footbridge spanning Middle Beck, heading for school. On the other side of the beck, I found myself in Australia. I walked along a bush track and came across a sculpture that I had made many years ago.

It didn’t look out of place. It all seemed quite natural. I walked around the sculpture, inspecting it. It essentially consisted of two planes of sheet steel. One plane had a hole in the centre. The other had a corresponding curve that mirrored the hole.

I knelt down and peered through the hole to align the two planes.

Through the hole and beyond was my granddad’s allotment, with an abundance of flowers, vegetables and chickens pecking grit off the path.

6th October 2020

The Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem –
‘Will Ye Go Lassie Go’
Oh the summertime is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather
Will ye go, lassie go?
And we’ll all go together
To pluck wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Will ye go, lassie go?


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