Lest we forget.

Yesterday, I stood by the Kohima Memorial in Poole Park in the sweltering heat so that I could pay my respects to the fallen on VJ Day. And, as I left after the silence, I read the words that never fail to move me.

‘When you go home,

Tell them of us and say

For your tomorrow

We gave out today.’

That applies to so many people, doesn’t it? The carers, the people who fight for rights, and, of course, our firemen and police men and servicemen and women who put their lives on the line. Our lifeboatmen, too, who’ve been busier than they should have been during the hot weather because people haven’t thought about what they’re doing. Just like the arsonist who’s destroyed so much heathland and wildlife. I won’t say what I’d like to do to him or her, because I do try to be nice and kind. Just why? And why, come to that, do some parents let their children chase birds and throw stones at them? ‘Oh, they’re just playing,’ their parents told me when I told them not to do it, followed by ‘what business is it of yours?’ Well, it is my business because we keep a lookout for One-eye the swan, who was blinded in one eye by little thugs over at Christchurch. He found his own way to Poole Park where we called Swan Rescue and he’s now a resident of the park in the quietest part of the lake and is part of the ‘B’ flock which gives me hope for the world because it’s a goose with cataracts, some muscovy ducks with a wing malformation due to poor feeding who’ve been dumped there, a couple of seagulls with damaged feet and a duck with a malformed beak. They look out for each other, and we look out for them, and the world would be a better place if those little dears learned from them, not their parents..

Anyway, off my soapbox now. I hope it’s getting cooler from now on, even though we haven’t had anything like the same temperatures as people I know in Wales and Cambridge, both of whom went well over 31c. We’ve always had the breeze outside, but the nights have been too hot to sleep, and the allergy-affected in my household have not been doing well.

But today feels different. There’s an East wind, for one thing, which is a colder one this close to the sea. Mists too, which is a sign of autumn to me, so I shall cherish the chances to sit outdoors while eagerly anticipating the snuggling in at home phase of the year and the luxury of being cool enough to snuggle under a duvet rather than at the stage where either I have stiff painful joints because I haven’t slept under a cover or I’m too hot to sleep well.

Everywhere’s so parched that I’m looking forward to rain that will damp down those fires. I’d like to see lots and lots of it. Heavily splashing in puddles, and what a nice word puddle sounds at the moment. Then the park and Harbourside will stop being parched straw and green up, and soon after that, contrary creatures like me will be longing for summer again!

I’m working on next year’s Esther and the Professor at the moment, which is in its research stage and makes insomnia a joy. Without giving too much away, there was still crime, and the lack of supervision of youngsters made all sorts of opportunities. When I work on these, I simultaneously realise how different the times were and how much the same. In both cases, there is the weight of expectations and the chaos caused by a few, while so many others just want to live a quiet life.

Anyway, it’s almost six o’clock. A pinkish grey sky is replacing darkness, and there’s a whole new day to go adventuring in. I hope you have fun and adventures till we meet again too.