This Isn't the Sort of Thing That Happens to Someone Like You (33 page)
Read This Isn't the Sort of Thing That Happens to Someone Like You Online
Authors: Jon McGregor
Westry, Whittlesey, March.
Dogsthorpe, Longthorpe, Westhorpe, Wilsthorpe, Belmesthorpe, Northorpe, Obthorpe, Manthorpe, Leesthorpe, Grimsthorpe, Elsthorpe, Scottlethorpe, Hawthorpe, Hanthorpe, Garthorpe, Milthorpe, Castlethorpe, Kettlethorpe, Skellingthorpe, Grassthorpe, Besthorpe, Winthorpe, Kirkby la Thorpe, Woolsthorpe by Colsterworth, Woolsthorpe, Derrythorpe, Birthorpe, Far Thorpe, Mid Thorpe, Kingthorpe, Swinthorpe, Friesthorpe, Woodthorpe, Claythorpe, Authorpe, Althorpe, Yaddlethorpe, Yawthorpe, Thorpe in the Fallows, Caythorpe, Sibthorpe, Biscathorpe, Buslingthorpe, Scunthorpe, Grainthorpe, Londonthorpe, Scotterthorpe, Northorpe, Gunthorpe, Springthorpe, Culverthorpe, Mablethorpe, Manthorpe, Aisthorpe, Hogsthorpe, Little Cawthorpe, Trusthorpe, Thorpe Satchville, Thorpe Arnold, Thorpe.
Loosegate, Fleet Hargate, Gate Burton, Broadgate, Horsegate, Halesgate, Wrangle Lowgate, Deeping Gate, Westgate, Chapelgate, Guanockgate, Halton Holegate, Gedney Broadgate.
Dogdyke, Skeldyke, Seadyke, Fosdyke, Austendike, Gedney Dyke, Thorpe Fendykes, Quadring Eaudike, Dyke.
Old Leake, Leake Commonside, Leake Gride, New Leake, Leake Ings.
Pinchbeck, Pinchbeck Bars, Swallowbeck, Pinchbeck West, Fulbeck, Woodbeck, Sudbrooke, Binbrook, Sedgebrook.
Chainbridge, Cuckoo Bridge, Fosdyke Bridge, Swineshead Bridge, Hubbert’s Bridge, Gipsey Bridge, Bishopbridge, Bracebridge, Friday Bridge, Pondersbridge, Tattershall Bridge, Forty Foot Bridge.
Stickford, Tetford, Belchford, Snarford, Ludford, Spalford, Stapleford, Langford, Sleaford, Hazelford, Bottesford, Scalford, Twyford, Greatford.
Owston Ferry, East Ferry, High Ferry.
Holbeach St Matthew, Holbeach St Marks, Holbeach St Johns, Marshland St James, Sutton St James, Sutton St Edmund, Deeping St James, Deeping St Nicholas, Wisbech St Mary, Wainfleet St Mary, Witham St Hughs, Saltfleetby St Peter, Toynton St Peter, Thorpe St Peter, Walpole St Peter, Walpole St Andrew, Terrington St John, Tilney St Lawrence, Theddlethorpe St Helen, Wiggenhall St Germans, Wiggenhall St Mary the Virgin, Wiggenhall St Mary Magdalen, Toynton All Saints, Saxby All Saints, Wainfleet All Saints, Theddlethorpe All Saints.
Ring’s End, Fen End, Surfeet Seas End, Tongue End, Brand End, Moulton Seas End, Scrane End, Kirton End, Frampton West End, Fishmere End, North End, Benington Sea End, Halltoft End, Ashington End, Gedney Drove End, Tilney High End, Bridge End, Castle End, Church End.
Eastville, Midville, Wyville, Frithville, Little London, Jerusalem, Gibraltar, Boston, New England, Newark, New York.
In summer the sky is most times blue.
A blue so pure & bright
that
it hurts to look into
it
.
A blue
so deep that if you look
straight
up you
have to grab
something for
fear
of falling
in.
The light
pouring
which pours from out of this blue
ness
sears
everything it can reach
/ fields of wheat / canals & drains / tarmac roads /
In summer the sky is blue & lifted high
a shimmering blue silence from which
there is no hiding place
(save) beneath the surface of the land.
he came back for
the taste of
her
like he was passing through the sky
to go somewhere and do something
In autumn the sky is most times white.
A ragged, dirty white.
And you wonder how this could be the same sky but it is.
The earth turns thick & hard beneath it.
Winds rip through the clouds and
slashes of light
run across the fields and vanish over the horizon and leave
the land as heavy as before.
The colours of the earth change. Westry
Fields & ditches clog with leaves. Whittlesey
Rivers swell. Pondersbridge
Forty Foot Bridge
Ticks Moor
West Moor
Ten Mile Bank
Salter’s Lode
Outwell
Friday Bridge
If you had stayed at home it
would never have happened.
We know the seasons are changing mostly by the shape & colour of the sky.
s t r e t c h e d o v e r u s f r o m
h o r i z o n t o h o r i z o n
t h e l e n g t h & b r e a d t h o f a d a y .
In winter the sky is most times grey.
A dark & bruising grey.
The days shorten.
The distance between the horizon shrinks. What little light
seeps down
is thick & lifeless.
In winter there’s
no danger of falling into the sky
Our bodies
anchored to the ground by the weight of the light.
The earth hides secrets.
The land is silent.
The drains & canals will freeze and be covered in snow.
The snow will come fast in the night and
block the roads & drains and leave
nothing
but whiteness
(all lines & textures concealed).
The land giving back light to the sky.
In spring the sky is all these colours. Spring comes
gradually here.
Broad beans & early wheat break through the surface of the soil.
Pale green buds squeeze out from dry branches
while the sky fades to light grey & white &
finally a
faint blue.
The air
cleanses itself
is cleansed,
with by
a warm wind from the south
bursts of sparkling rain
The sky lifts away from the ground.
those arms lifted
up to the sky.
The horizons draw apart
and stretch the sky taut and
space & light flood back into our lives.
that arching back.
This is the time when change
is a daily force:
woodlands smeared green overnight
fields purpled with lavender behind your back
wives & mothers & daughters pregnant by dawn
This is the time when the floods come
and the ditches and barriers have to be built again,
a little
deeper
a little
higher
But still, with all this life bursting up towards the sky,
(the earth holds secrets)
(the sky watches)
The hills having eyes means nothing here.
The land is level and all we have watching over us is the sky.
This place I’ve grown up in is
a landscape of lines,
a world of
the parallel & perpendicular.
The straightest line of all is the
hard blur of the horizon.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A single unbending line which encircles the day.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When I was
As a child I would spin around
with my eyes on the horizon
trying to catch the place where
the line turned or bent but I never could
the mystery of the straight, encircling line.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(All the) other lines find their way to the horizon
sooner or later
High lines, (Years ago, playing in the
connecting lines: telegraph wires furrows while your father
railway tracks watched, you looked up +
canals saw a line of boats gliding
drains through the sky. The fear
rivers you felt, seeing those
boats above your head.)
Low lines,
boundary lines: ditches (No hedges or walls
roads between fields here,
paths only the ditches + roads.
Ditches to stop the sea
reclaiming what it owns.)
The lines of this place are sometimes washed out by floods.
Obliteration.
Water erasing the (Cornelius the Dutchman
manmade geometry digging his way through
restoring this place the 17th century.)
to the sea it once was.
Sometimes it will be rain, swelling the rivers until they break
through
and rush over the fields,
settling across hundreds of acres for weeks at a time,
sky below as well as above, clouds & seabirds gliding overhead
sky above as well as below, clouds & seabirds gliding overland.
Or snow will cover everything, blocking drains & roads,
……….
Mothers forbidding their children to leave the house.
Lost children in the fields.
You said you don’t remember your mother telling you to go out,
but you would have been too young to remember/to go out.
Sometimes the fog
will
come in with
