I looked out across

We were listening to a Sting CD the other day over tea (dinner if you’re not from up north) when, during a particularly favourite song, there was a bit of improvised jazz thrown in (it was a live recording). Not being a fan of thrown in jazz, I looked at the CD player and said in no uncertain terms “will you stop... stop...” struggling to think of what I wanted him to stop doing I came up with the word blithering. “Will you stop blithering on and get back to the song you’re supposed to be singing”! I have to admit I didn’t actually know what the word meant. It was just there in my head, it had been there all this time and came out at the right moment! It was one of my Dad’s words and for the past week has been one of mine! I can just hear him saying “Blithering idiot”!

Anyway, I’m going to carry on as I’ve started and that is to blither!

When I was nearly five, back in 1967, my Mum took me and my sister over to India to meet Grandad. I didn’t understand that Mum was going back home because he was ill, I was just excited about meeting him. When we landed at Bangalore Airport I kept asking Mum “is that him, is that him?” Every older looking man with dark skin was, to me, potentially my Grandad.

When Sarah and I did our first cross bay walk, I was very excited about walking over the bay but also about meeting (or at least just seeing) Cedric Robinson! As all the walkers started to gather in Arnside, I remember looking at all the older gentlemen and thinking “Is that him?” Cedric has been a sandwalker for many many years and at the age of 82 is still walking over the sands. After awhile it became obvious other people were also interested to know which one was Cedric? “He just appears out of nowhere”. “You don’t see him, you just hear his whistle blow!” The same curiosity was going through the crowd at yesterday's gathering; “Is Cedric here”. “Is that him”. “He always carries a wooden staff and walks in bare feet”.

Suddenly the whistle blows and we're off. It soon becomes apparent that Cedric is not leading the walk... “What, where’s Cedric?” “Who’s leading us across the bay?” “Are we safe?” After all he is getting older and someone else will have to take over one day. As we came to the end of the first leg of the walk, where we step onto the bay for the first time and where Cedric would normally take his shoes off, there appeared on the horizon a tiny black speck. “Is someone out on the bay already?” “Who is that?” “Is that a camel he's riding?” And slowly the black speck grew bigger... “It’s not a camel it’s a tractor, Omar Sharif is in a tractor!” “We’re all going to be ok, Cedric is here...”

I looked out across
The river today...

...And all this time
The river flowed
Endlessly,
To the sea...

...And all this time the river flowed
In the falling light of a northern sun.
Sting, All this time.

An easier way to cross the bay?

Waiting for the whistle

Anyone seen Cedric?

Time and tide wait...