Thursday, September 1

The Bore.

What a good name !
It certainly isn't boring if you are there as it happens.
Most people in England know of the Avon Bore.
But there is a Bore in south Cumbria on the River Kent .
We often go to Arnside, on the south bank of the river,

We have a cuppa in the little wooden tea rooms along the bank and up a hill to the left.
Then sit and wait and hope, like children listening for sleigh bells on Christmas Eve.

 If our timing is right, we will hear the "bore" as the tide streams in past the town at a narrow part of the river. It sounds like a train coming closer...really loud... and the first time is so uncanny as to make you think that the train is coming up the river! 
Sadly we were out of luck, but the tea was worth it and the piece of almond and lemon cake almost made up for the disappointment.

Today we took the bikes and peddled down to the Mersey, about a mile as the crow flies.

Not many crows there ...mainly seagulls and other water fowl!
We sat at the wooden tables, gazing out over the river and ate sandwiches...they don't serve food...and drank  Guinness.

Suddenly...there was a roar coming  from the west.
A Bore!
I couldn't believe my ears and I jumped up knocking over drinks and crisps !

From being a trickle of water in the river, it very quickly filled up to the level of the rushes and sedges on the opposite side to us.

I've lived around here for 40 years and I never knew that we had our own local Mersey Bore! 
Well that's not completely true...actually I've known quite a few...but none as exciting as this one!

A Poem for Thursday.

the bolt

came out of a clear blue sky
one minute
drinking guinness
watching gulls slowly rising
from the river
as the tide returned.

cut grass and cylists
and a Ferry view.


somehow we knew
as she crossed to the window
wound down to take
the unexpected heat.

parked cars and parents
and the green of the playing field.


this like the loss of the Angles.
no good screaming down
dream corridors
after a departing soul.

bacon, eggs and tomato
and the presentation's the thing.


a knowing look
and again
Castor and Pollux had all the answers.

Click your heels together
and Kansas is home.

This is my dear friend Dorothy working at the Oaks Cafe.
Sweet memories.