May 22nd club. June 3rd

Castlenel June 3rd.

today we had wonderful news,David has signed his contact with the chinese.

A long awaited reward for many years of hard work.

For the first time in a long while we felt celebratory and we drank some of the 1.65

I said my favourite poem to John .

A Piper by Seamus O'Sullivan. ( a moment of Joy in another wise ordinary day)

A piper in the streets today
set up, and tuned, and started to play,
And away, away, away on the tide
of his music we started; on ev'ry side
Doors and windows were opened wide,
[And men left down their work and came,]1
And women with petticoats coloured [like]2 flame.
And little bare feet that were blue with cold
went dancing back to the age of gold,
And all the world went gay, went gay
For half an hour in the [street]3 today.


John read this beautiful passage from his book (in progress) Latitude?
We had some lovely memories of our time on holiday in Spain many years ago.

Clepsydra

Three millennia and more before them, on the far shore of the Hellespont, potters worked making jars. With some they made a tiny hole in the base before firing the clay. These were their timing mechanisms, true clocks, and strangely they were alarm clocks. They called them Water thieves, Klepto Hydras hence the title of this chapter.

For the peoples of Asia knew exactly what time of day it was. They had the sun, the moon and the stars. Particularly they had the Morning Star which hangs brilliantly and alone in the dark sky when all others fade. That marks aprecise recognisable moment every morning which lasts as long as it takes to boil a kettle. The dawn begins, bats are flying, a cock crows in the old town and the star begins to lose its brilliance. In minutes it is gone. A swallow joins the bats. The sun gleams. That precise period of time before the day begins is the Madruga in Spanish and is the first hour of the ancient day.

The evening stars appearance marks the last hour. Helen and I lived one summer when we were first married, in a house with a view of the sea and of the lighthouse of San Sebastian. After sundown, but while it was still light, we would sit outside and drink a glass of something. A bat would appear each night flying once round our table and then be gone. The moment it left us the lighthouse would light up. As the long summer progressed into Autumn the time by the clock of these events crept earlier and earlier but the sequence was always the same. The bat would circle. The light would gleam.

That moment is the last hour of the ancient day and men and women sense it as much as bats and lighthouse keepers. And once a month the new moon hangs in the western sky and on truly auspicious evenings the evening star keeps it company.

And with that moon, we know a month of evenings has passed and another is about to begin.

As the sun appeared, Cleopatra’s Needle and all her companions became the day time clocks. The inhabitants of busy metropolitan cities in the east could tell with a glance at her shadow which of the daylight hours it was.

During the day, water clocks were used for timing more precise shorter intervals, from the length of a court hearing to the baking of cakes. After sundown they were useful for timing the night watches for wakeful guardians.

Marcus Aurelius the great Roman Emperor left some wonderful meditations on what it is to be human and in one of them, unwittingly I think, he gives us an insight into one wakeful guardian, a sentry on guard duty in an armed camp. He is speaking about death and how to behave when that time comes and he says,’ be like a soldier on sentry duty, stay watchful. When you feel the hand of your replacement on your shoulder, do not make a fuss but stand aside quietly and take your leave’.

He is describing I think an essential military drill but imagine it. Have you seen the film? Gladiator with Russel Crowe, yes Richard Harris. Where are we then. Germany, forests, wolves and some very ferocious enemies about. It’s a dark night and you are on duty. Been there a few hours staring at the forest, all ears. Suddenly a hand on your shoulder? A muffled shriek more like. Or an ‘ Oh my God don’t Do that!’ Or if you’re the replacement and don’t want to be stabbed first, official enquiry afterwards, you might try a little cough as you come up behind the guy, surely. Or a tuneless whistle?

No sign of my father’s, ‘ Halt who goes there! Advance friend and be recognised!’ Who makes these drills up? Not a Marcus Aurelius that’s for sure. He knew about surviving in hostile territory. At least not until.. no I wont spoil the film if you haven’t seen it. I reflect now on the relaxed state of total awareness behind such trusting communications which the Legions must have cultivated when on duty.



From Latitude (unpublished ) by J.L.

congratulations David---the 1.65 was delicious.