The cliché of staring at a blank page comes to mind.
Why should I bother if I had nothing to say at the outset? I can't answer that, except that I enjoy the process, much as others enjoy Morris dancing or composing clerihews.
I suppose there are similarities when one embarks on a walk, when unpredictable events and sights unfold as one progresses. and for which activity nobody, despite many weary attempts over the years, has managed to provide an explanation for the initial motivation and the subsequent satisfaction.
This Thursday's walk was defined the night before and I drove with the two Petes and parked the car on a grass verge with the nose up to the back of a road sign - that distinctive location failed to jog my memory.
We walked down the lane on Tarmac as far as the turning to Sands Bottom, then after a gate it became unsurfaced. Pete No. 1 announced he and I had been there before, and furthermore remembered a geocache we had found in a knot-hole disguised with a metal bolt. We found the location but the cache has been removed or closed down. Pete also clearly remembered the precise parking spot used today, exactly the same as previously.
It was only further down the lane that my memory gradually returned. I have been able to trace the previous visit to the 29th May 2014 from the date logged on the Geocaching website, but unfortunately I didn't post here about it.
I have only a feeble notion of scansion, but here is my attempt at a clerihew.
Pete No. 1
Recalled previous fun.
I pompously demurred,
Which opinion proved absurd.
|Just a pleasant garden with extensive views to the Fylde coast|
|Big zoom to Blackpool Tower 16 miles away|
|Nicky Nook summit. Our route circumnavigated this hill which we used to climb as a family evening outing when I lived in Preston|