Coming Up For Air

The title of this post is the title of a book by George Orwell. I read it....strewth......nearly twenty years ago now. Its about a chap who goes back to the visit the place he spent his childhood in, hoping to re-experience some of those things that made it so special. He finds that time - unsurprisingly - has not waited for him, and that many of the things he looked forward to seeing again are now gone, just like many of the people.

Its a book about nostalgia really, and how you must realise that you can never go back. Those days are gone. I always remind someone I know who is very nostalgic that eventually, he'll be nostalgic for these days too, so enjoy all hell out of them while you can. I know I'll look back on this time very fondly indeed, as I have a lot to feel fortunate about.

However, there is a lot going on right now, and I need a break. Often, my breaks would come in the form of music festivals. Sadly, finances and line-ups that defy my age and musical tastes mean I rarely go anymore, and when I do go, they tire me to the point that I need another break after them.

I'd like to come up for air right now. I know you can never go back, but just some greenery, some sunshine, and less stress would be marvellous. So here is a poem by William Butler Yeats, which sums up my mood for today. I hope you all know your own way of coming up for air, and I hope you get enough of a lungful so that you can cope with the 21st century once again.

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.