the postman never knocks

With the sun in our faces and the wind in our hair we set out long ago into a boundless world full of hope and possibility. Now as the dusk creeps in and the sun prepares to set, we trust there is time to set it all down in words ...

... or are we destined to be commuters on the treadmill of school-work-retirement village?

Image: 1946 New York subway by a 17-year old Stanley Kubrick


Although recently published, these posts have been written over many years. They note various thoughts coming to mind as we wander through this once-beautiful world ...

I was nearly sixteen when Marilyn died, August 4th 1962. Bernie Sanders was 21 and would have had more chance of meeting her than me. I have no idea whether he actually did. Of the two of them it's Marilyn I would rather know, although Bernie's rather cool as far as yanks go.

To sit on a park bench with her discussing the news would be some kind of dream.