No title for this...

Today I sat on a bench by the sea and ate sausage and chips and drank a sickly sweet can of Pepsi Max as that was all the takeaway sold. On the pavement a man danced high on drugs to a stall holder music. The traffic fumes smelt as they do when you haven't being used to smelling them for some time. Yes, I was back in Morecambe for the afternoon. Just being there amongst the noise and people was a big step for me today, a marker or mile stone.

Its been 5 months since I felt well enough to visit the Morecambe or the nearby city of Lancaster. Thats quite a thought that a place I enjoyed so much could hold and install so much fear in me. Over time looking back I can see the signs of approaching anxiety, they were so subtle that I didnt pay them any attention. They go back several years. In fact I dont know how far back they could be traced as they get very nuanced the further back gaze down memory lane you gaze.

I have been deliberately negative in the first paragraph, because despite these facts I was happy. Morecambe has its problems being a relatively poor sea side town, but the sands and beach are nice as are the views across the bay. It has a charm that contrasts with the town behind the sea front. Its down to earth outlook contrasts with the pristine area that I live in. Its good to be reminded of the imperfection in the world. Well it is when everything seems picture post card where I live. It isnt of course, but it seems to stay well hidden. It never changes the atmosphere of the valley. Nothing seems to. Sometime I wish the valley would give a scream or a shout...something please ! I guess a city does just that. It cant or doesnt deceive ? The people make the city.

I think this valley does blow off steam come to think of it. For instance when a woman was washed away down the river in her car, the spontaneous combustion case, or the death of a cyclist or the tourist who hung himself, or the killer who buried body parts in the hills. Things do happen here, but they never impact on the dales reputation or atmosphere, though one could expect this village to have gained a macabre reputation by now. All this seems to be ignored in favor of the beauty that surrounds.

This is reflected in history to. The valley was the last to free its slaves in the country. The slaves are rumored to have gone on a violent rampage and were surrounded and killed. There is a house on the outskirts of Dent called Siege Gill. I often wonder if this is where the violent killings took place. The door has been consistently painted blood red for years. Im beginning to understand where I live better now. Thats something Ive felt coming over my wanderings of the last few months. It sounds like winter rain outside tonight...