Week Experience

It’s the small events that colour in the large spaces between the more obviously significant moments in our lives.Sights and sounds absorbed in passing can leave a lasting impression of the immediate world around us.

Chemical Bouquet

This week I have been mostly smelling…aircraft fuel. This was something more common in my childhood but its been hanging in the air a lot over the past seven days and in that odd way that we get to associate good feelings with the smell of hot tarmac, bonfires, cut grass or a certain scent that you associate with a lost loved one, I find the smell of aviation fuel in the air somehow evokes pleasant feelings.

Nomads

Where I live there is a running cat and mouse game with ‘gypsy’ travellers who occupy areas of local grassland for short periods before the due process of the law moves them on, only for them to return after a brief tour around the many other small pockets of greenery around town.

The council has started placing wooden fencing around many of the most popular areas which now sees the traveller pick ever small grass areas for occupation , now in pairs rather than in a larger group of six or more mobile homes. Just around the corner a communal area of grass with trees is now used by two families of travellers each owning a dog and a chicken (which live in their own chicken house) and a clothes line tied between the clumps of conifer trees for drying clothes. The sound of a portable generator permeates the suburban calm.Within days all that will be left will be various piles of discarded refuse where they once were. The council will dispose of this and if there is no money to fence this area off they will soon return. Nomads of the suburbs.

Strimming In Infinity

My parents live about two and a half miles away from us.It’s within walking distance and along the way this week I saw a young woman strimming furiously around her over grown front lawn accompanied by the highly amplified sounds of Robbie Williams singing ‘Angels’. A curious assault on the senses.

Cassette Culture Nostalgia

Also close to my parents is a closed down petrol station boarded up and awaiting redevelopment.The white hoarding around the area seems to have become attractive to graffiti artists who seem less inclined to paint their gang names in multi coloured spray paints but to apply their own personal branding images promoting the url of their respective MySpace web page. One such personal advert features an elaborate audio compact cassette logo. A now defunct retro cassette image by someone surely so young that the real article must have played only a fleeting part of their young lives.

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Milk Walk

Sunday 
I went to get some milk at a well known local store that specialises in frozen food (you know the one that the Mums go to). I go there for small items on a weekend as I’d rather saw my toes off with a blunt hacksaw than step inside a major supermarket on a weekend.

The Woman In Front 
I stood staring into space waiting for the woman in front of me at the checkout to pack her food stuff away whilst she slowly realised that the amount of food she purchased cannot possibly be carried by just one person.She was flustered and stressed and I could feel it.

The Tomboy Behind 
The tomboyish woman behind me was talking quite loudly and with a deep earthy voice as she bemoaned her lot to her friend behind (the general theme about being run off her feet and having no time). She placed her Sunday shopping onto the checkout conveyor belt and behind my singular item. She had 8 cans of beer and a small tub of cream.

The Traveller 
I walked back through the nearby green space area. The travellers there have moved on leaving rubbish piled up in the centre spot of a football pitch. Refuse is strewn around the nearby church. This seems to be a regular feature now. Travellers come, they leave, they return. A game of cat and mouse with the local authorities.

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