Diary of a sunset seeker

“I wanna live and breathe. I wanna be part of the human race”

Aug 06, 2024

Ironbridge Gorge, 6th August 2024 **(Author’s Collection)**

Star Date: 6th August 2024
Destination: Toy Town
Reason: A bag of chips and a reflection filled sunset
Tune for the evening: “The Bends” by Radiohead
Why? Personal indulgence!

Anyway, enough of this gibberish.

It was around 10am this morning when I decided I’d leave my troubles aside for another day and chase the sunshine around my tiny garden like a desperate lizard on speed. I had to finish one Hunter S Thompson book before starting to re-read another I reasoned and anyway, major cities throughout England were ablaze, riots of every colour and persuasion were in progress and the generation of swine and pigs the Good Doctor had warned us all about, many of us before we were even born, were coming home to roost.

Slithering around the garden in search of shards of warming sunshine I avoided yet more distressing and depressing pictures of the destruction being wrought on Shakespeare’s Sceptred Isle whilst I prayed for the EMP strike that would formally bring an end to our collective Matrix of doom, speeding ever quicker the final death knell to the stock markets that are currently tanking faster than Joe Biden’s approval rating and anyway, without the electrical strike that would finally free us from this web of deceit and doom to return us all, reluctantly in the main, back to the real life of nature and the fascinating world all around us, these fake markets will soon be “rebounding” or becoming “vibrant” and “ebullient” again for they are manufactured ones and zeroes of a plastic world and humanised terms for the children of the Matrix and Hunter S Thompson’s oft quoted generation of swine.

It was just past 2pm and after securing birthday cinema tickets to see Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice) and after hearing and reading tall tales from a friend and his encounter with ex Manchester United footballer Roy Keane, that the sun really blazed and I could settle down to some serious sun worshipping. One of life’s happy genetic accidents ensures I quickly turn from red to a reasonable chocolate brown during any elongated sessions of worship beneath our Great Fire God of the Sky and after finishing yet another re-read of the Good Doctor’s words I was onto my next re-read, for the third time, “Generation of Swine”. Mid 1980’s tales of degradation and madness come easily in the full glare of our benevolent Sun God and with exactly £3.30 in my pocket, a song in my heart, a head full of dreams and some spare bread for the swans and ducks of Ironbridge I decided this evening was the perfect occasion to chase a sunset over toy town once more.

And why not?

I arrived in my spiritual home as the 5 hourly bells from St Luke’s chimed their enchanting song from the church high upon the hill and Ironbridge was resplendent in such beautiful colour from a multitude of tourists taking in some late day sunshine. “Stephen’s Bench” was constantly busy (damn tourists!) but no matter, a piping box of chips was enjoyed with my literary hero whilst I also watched what I can only describe as the largest cat I’ve ever seen prowl up and down the hill leading from the river to the statue to the men of Ironbridge who gave their lives in the two World Wars. Every time I tried to capture his or her image they sauntered off up the hill again only to return before replicating the process all over again. Thankfully free of the drugs so voraciously enjoyed by Hunter (otherwise I’d swear this beast was an escaped mountain lion from the wilds and hills of California) I noted the cat had a badly damaged right eye and a free spirited nature but I had been sitting in the sun for most of the day so I could have been hallucinating by this point and just allowing my penchant for telling tall tales to get the better of me once again. The cat did draw somewhat of a small crowd at various times but again, that could well be down to the world famous writer in a Radiohead t-shirt eating a box of chips in the late day sunshine. Who can know for sure?

Leaving my adoring public I enjoyed the same stroll along the riverside I’ve taken many, many hundreds of times before and one which I wouldn’t change for the world. Fred and Mary and their fellow feathered duck friends were present and correct and hungry as ever. A third swan, not currently named, was also on hand, or rather, on the river, and I pleasingly took up residence on “Beth’s Bench” and gave up reading the words of Dr Gonzo and instead simply sat and watched and listened to the squeals of delight from a gaggle of small children splashing in the river.

I didn’t quite catch the sunset I was hoping for but my spiritual home treated me well as she always does.

Here’s some Radiohead (and a quite stunning cover version) and a lucky 9 images from this evening for your enjoyment.

Peace.