Postcard from the Mediterranean

Think you can’t time travel? Think again. The next time you look into a photo, look hard. Here, a postcard from a beach on the south of France. There’s my mom on a blanket pointing at the sea. She has red hair like no one else in France, she sticks out. Her husband is a big Englishman with long hair and a beard, oversized khakis, plays guitar. They are the talk of the town and soon part of all the artists and fringe types, singing folk tunes late into the day, any day. It is early days for my heavy drinking and for that, the best. I chronicle my daily consumption with the diligence of a Weight Watchers plan and looking back, it’s hard to keep down. The pre-drink drinks, the post-drink drinks, the scant bread and cheese in between. I go back to the curves of that sea along the beach, shapely as a woman’s hips. To the dark, side street bars and waving aloe stalks, the persistence of salt in the maritime air. There, the stone fortress from the 15th century with slits in the floor where they just crapped right into the sea. And why wouldn’t you? The earth is young still, no one has made plastic. We make stuff out of glass and clay, reuse everything. Think you can’t time travel, look back at your graduation photos. Look into the eyes of your so-called friends and family. Look into your own eyes and the soul that naps beneath the floorboards. I’ve gone back for a time but that’s enough, time travel is hard. Time now to stake the daisies, and move on.

Categories: prose, writing

Tags: ,

10 replies

  1. Nice one, Bill. That Mediterranean air so well captured. And this piece chimes with my thoughts after recently watching Stephen Poliakoff’s film ‘Shooting the Past’ – over twenty years old but oh, so timely. If you haven’t seen it…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Traveling” back in time can be a bit unsettling … I am at times (unwarned!) JERKED BACK to certain places, faces, struggles. Interesting to let the mature brain wander back into younger days.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ah, I remember staking daisies.

    Somehow this sits perfectly with the blast of winter here. Not that we’re allowed out.

    Give my best to the garden, Bill. xo

    Liked by 1 person

    • That stinks you’re not allowed out, has to have gotten really, really old. They are finally loosening that in Germany where my mom lives. Yes, something meditative and restorative about staking the daisies (though same could be said for raking the leaves!). Not as hard on the back mind you…

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Time to stake the daisies and move on, indeed.

    Cheers, Bill.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: