I love it when a blog post takes you to a place where you have never been before and just for a brief time you are transported wherever it may be. It is so descriptive that you are there enjoying that moment along with the author. All the sights and sounds that surround them are playing on the senses and your own imagination kicks in. Perhaps you are noticing other things for the first time too. It is what I subconsciously aim for when I write a story. I don’t always feel that I manage it, but when it comes together, Ah success!
I don’t often read books, it is not a luxury I’m often able to afford myself, you see I’ll let you into a secret. They aren’t something I can put down again. I get so wrapped up in them, transported I guess that I am unable to switch off until I have reached the end. On the last two occasions I actually read books it was cover to cover and nothing got done for the day. Thankful for small mercies that I read pretty quickly though. Quite often even then I have considered what might happen next, another chapter. I’ve often considered writing one at the end of a book I’ve particularly enjoyed. I do the same with a film the concentration is immense. But if anything breaks that for me and I miss a bit then quite often I will walk away mid film and watch it another time, much to the annoyance of my partner.
One such post transported me there is this one Helen Hayward Going Home for Christmas which I read tonight. It got me thinking about the places which have been home over the years, she quoted a friend “Never go back to the place where you were happiest as a child’, a friend once told me. ‘The place you went on holiday to, a garden from childhood, a tree house in the woods. It’s gone, lost’, she said firmly, ‘and you can’t refind it’.”
Revisiting them is not always a good idea. Crossing back to the time before we became grown up, when we looked at everything so differently. First off we often expect it to be the same and it just isn’t the same. Not when you have grown up but still we have a fondness for the familiar don’t we. The inspiration following a memory we once had.
I walked down the high street where I grew up as a teenager and later lived in the town nearby. It has changed so much, I did not recognise it and yet it still somehow brought me comfort in the memories that I hold of the place. We all grow up one day, people and places in an ever changing world.