Sun, cirrus cloud and a vapour trail.
I can't spell, I know. Spell check doesn't often help, I know. But day before yesterday going back to a previous post, I see that I have become responsible for the astonishing remark in a caption: "vapour trails over artwork". How did I produce this piece of nonsense? Then I realise. The spell check had not recognised Gatwick and with a amazing ingenuity had substituted "artwork" for London's second airport .And I inadvertently had approved it. Sometimes such mistakes are serendipitously funny. Not this one I' m afraid.
Tunbridge Wells has a music festival. It is called Local and Live. In The Pantiles this afternoons I see stalls being set up for booze, and most significant, banks of amplifiers. Not Edinburgh. Not Bayreuth. But tomorrow, judging by previous events, the very ground will tremble as group after group compete to accecentuate repeat base rhythms and raise the decibel count to Olympian heights. Where we live we hear the thump of percussion and occasional cries which drift our way like "ancestral voices prophesying war".
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