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| Our bus at Dublin airport |
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| Sunset taxiing from Dublin |
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| Business class! |
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| Abu Dhabi control tower |
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| Abu Dhabi landscape |
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| Pressurisation on landing at Sydney |
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| Gold coast |
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| Arrival at Bris |
20140814
Australia
We made it! We went staff travel (standby) but we got on all the flights and were upgraded to business on the longest sector, thanks Kate! It's winter here but as warm as an Irish summer.
20140808
We're off to see the Wizard
Did I say that we're off to the wonderful land of Oz on Sunday (or Monday (or Tuesday))... (we travel standby). The occasion? My last progeny's wedding. Dublin - Abu Dhabi - Sydney - Brisbane.
We're off to see the Wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
We hear he is a Whiz of a Wiz
If ever a Wiz there was
If ever, oh ever, a Wiz there was
The Wizard of Oz is one because
Because, because, because, because, because
Because of the wonderful things he does
We're off to see the wizard
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!
20140806
Freedom or Bondage?
It is right and proper for parents and teachers to teach life skills to their wards but they are almost bound to be biased in so doing. And so we inevitably become indoctrinated and life may not be long enough to free us of such scruples. In a recent post I muted that my parents taught me to wear shoes and to keep dry. But who taught me that church denominations outside the one I was brought up in were suspect? It was never expressed quite like that but that was its effect. Since I don't think that's how God works, I reckon I must have been listening to human reasoning. I remember two girls returning from some sort of Christian camp and being excited about someone there who had been healed - and this being hush-hushed because our church figured miracles no longer happened. It came as a shock, when I went up to Oxford, to find real Christians from other backgrounds.
Too bad that so many of us remain all our life in bondage to what other people think. As opposed to "my yoke is easy, my burden light". Too bad that such bondage leads to stress and stress is a root cause of all manner of chronic sicknesses.
The theory goes: "Your leaders reckon they know the scriptures. So you should listen to and do what they tell. But don't copy their actions; for they talk a lot but do not do as they preach. They bind heavy and hard-to-carry burdens and lay them on men's shoulders. But they will not even lift a finger to move them. They do what they do in order to be seen of men. They make a show in the way they talk and dress, and they love titles and to be known in the right company and to be recognised by men as having a ministry. But you must not be called by a title for One is your teacher, Christ, and you are all brothers. And call no one your father on the earth, for One is your Father in Heaven. And do not be called teachers, for One is your Teacher, even Christ. He who is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whoever shall exalt himself shall be abased, and he who shall humble himself shall be exalted." (my paraphrase). Whereas in practice I get tied up in knots, literal knots in my stomach, for fear of what people might think, or worrying about what I haven't done or can't achieve.
There is great liberty in the doctrine of "the total depravity of man" - that, without God, you are hopelessly bad to the core. If you can really get a hold of that then there is not much lower you can get. And in good company too with he "who... made himself of no reputation, and took upon himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross."
True freedom is not being bound to do wrong. "If you continue... you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. They answered: 'We are Abraham's seed and were never in bondage to anyone. How do you say, You will be made free?' He answered, Truly, whoever practices sin is the slave of sin... Therefore if the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed."
Too bad that so many of us remain all our life in bondage to what other people think. As opposed to "my yoke is easy, my burden light". Too bad that such bondage leads to stress and stress is a root cause of all manner of chronic sicknesses.
The theory goes: "Your leaders reckon they know the scriptures. So you should listen to and do what they tell. But don't copy their actions; for they talk a lot but do not do as they preach. They bind heavy and hard-to-carry burdens and lay them on men's shoulders. But they will not even lift a finger to move them. They do what they do in order to be seen of men. They make a show in the way they talk and dress, and they love titles and to be known in the right company and to be recognised by men as having a ministry. But you must not be called by a title for One is your teacher, Christ, and you are all brothers. And call no one your father on the earth, for One is your Father in Heaven. And do not be called teachers, for One is your Teacher, even Christ. He who is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whoever shall exalt himself shall be abased, and he who shall humble himself shall be exalted." (my paraphrase). Whereas in practice I get tied up in knots, literal knots in my stomach, for fear of what people might think, or worrying about what I haven't done or can't achieve.
There is great liberty in the doctrine of "the total depravity of man" - that, without God, you are hopelessly bad to the core. If you can really get a hold of that then there is not much lower you can get. And in good company too with he "who... made himself of no reputation, and took upon himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross."
"And do not fear those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul. But rather fear Him who can destroy both soul and body in hell." Trouble is, I am a wimp - I don't want to suffer and I don't like it when I am dissed. God help me.
True freedom is not being bound to do wrong. "If you continue... you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. They answered: 'We are Abraham's seed and were never in bondage to anyone. How do you say, You will be made free?' He answered, Truly, whoever practices sin is the slave of sin... Therefore if the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed."
20140804
Oliver!
My mother took me to see the film "Oliver" soon after it was released and it made a great impression on me. I came away sort of dazed. I remember my mother asking me which song I enjoyed most and I told her that obviously it was "Where is love?". Although in hindsight "Who will buy...?" is another tear-jerker.
And that is why, possibly, I have a fascination with curved terraces such as Regents Street, London and the Royal Crescent, Bath. We stopped in Bath on our recent trip to the UK and so, whilst Ali was buying beads, I ran across town (barefoot) and took the next two photos.
And that is why, possibly, I have a fascination with curved terraces such as Regents Street, London and the Royal Crescent, Bath. We stopped in Bath on our recent trip to the UK and so, whilst Ali was buying beads, I ran across town (barefoot) and took the next two photos.
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| The Royal Crescent, Bath |
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| Royal Crescent rear view |
The building is quite deep - so I figure the rooms inside must be quite large. And the rear elevation is rather random with later additions, as can be seen from this aerial view I found. Posh facade and not so posh derriere.
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| Aerial view |
So what was it in the film "Oliver" that moved me so much? That puts it in first place of all musicals I have seen. Perhaps I am incurably romantic? Perhaps I fell in love with Mark Lester's face? Perhaps I was moved by the music? Or perhaps the whole thing was just so well crafted from beginning (sepia photograph coming to life) to end (Fagin's adieu).
Some admiration for Mark Lester dissipates on hearing that he did not actually sing any of his songs! There were no film locations - the whole show was filmed in the studio. This link shows some of the "behind the scenes". And the following quote gives some sense of the epic nature of the production:
"This was to be more than "a big picture." The timelessness of its theme, its depth of story and character, its richness of song and dance, its evocation of an era, all demanded painstaking devotion, over a long production period. The original stage presentation had to be "opened up," so that the movie camera might do justice to its several hundred performers amid new colourful settings; and so that 110 musicians, and scores of singers, and the magic of sound engineering might give new dimensions to its music. But it had to be expanded by the addition of far more dancing than the limited confines of the stage had permitted.
"A crew of 350 built the astonishing sets, and symbolic of their scope may be these random examples of the materials used: 110 tons of scaffolding; 10 tons of nails and screws: 1000 cobblestone slabs to recreate roadways of long ago; 1000 gallons of mixed paints. But cold statistics can convey no sense of the warmth, dedication and "heart" of the vivid life and crowded panorama which so many talents joined forces to create."
20140801
Sweet memories are a blessing
The present infinitesimal moment on which we travel through life leaves behind only a trail of memories. But even memories can be rich. We have just come back from a trip to visit Ali's mother in Devon and attend a nephew's wedding, and I had a day to myself whilst Ali went shopping. So I went on a memory trip.
My first stop was Westward Ho! It is possibly 50 years since I was here last and not much has changed. My goal was to taste the beach again and to locate the apartment block my parents rented. The beach satisfied: it is a long expanse of clean sand stretching over 2 miles. Of course I ran barefoot from end to end stopping only to take pictures and fight the breakers.
My next port of call was Lynton, or more accurately the coast to the left of Lynton. I followed signs for Martin Hoe and parked the car above Woody Bay. My goal was to retrace the euphoric walk I took during a Lee Abbey holiday. In fact I only retraced only a small part of it, but some is better than naught. True to memory I wore no top, but this time also barefoot.
I followed the coastal path eastwards descending to Lee Abbey's beach which marked the starting point for my historic walk. I followed the coast westwards until defeated by unscalable rocks and sea, then retraced my steps to the beach where I swam for some while - the water so warm, so calm.
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| Atlantic waves |
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| Westward Ho! |
My first stop was Westward Ho! It is possibly 50 years since I was here last and not much has changed. My goal was to taste the beach again and to locate the apartment block my parents rented. The beach satisfied: it is a long expanse of clean sand stretching over 2 miles. Of course I ran barefoot from end to end stopping only to take pictures and fight the breakers.
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| Looking south |
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| Looking north towards Braunton |
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| Around the tip of the beach to the Taw estuary |
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| Towards the fishing village of Appledore |
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| Westward Ho! |
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| Zooming in to the apartment block |
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| About here I would have purchased my daily icecream |
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| This, I think, is where we stayed |
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| In that door to the left - which opened into a dank smell |
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| View from the apartment - recalling that first thrill on arriving here |
My next port of call was Lynton, or more accurately the coast to the left of Lynton. I followed signs for Martin Hoe and parked the car above Woody Bay. My goal was to retrace the euphoric walk I took during a Lee Abbey holiday. In fact I only retraced only a small part of it, but some is better than naught. True to memory I wore no top, but this time also barefoot.
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| Looking north-east from the top |
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| Zooming in - the Valley of the Rocks is at top right |
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| The glen leading down to Woody Bay |
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| Woody Bay hotel |
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| Looking west from the coastal path |
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| Lee Abbey look-out tower |
I followed the coastal path eastwards descending to Lee Abbey's beach which marked the starting point for my historic walk. I followed the coast westwards until defeated by unscalable rocks and sea, then retraced my steps to the beach where I swam for some while - the water so warm, so calm.
Regrettably I cannot remember how, back then, I continued westwards: there was no way-marked coastal path in those days. I think I must have used the road for a while before descending back to the coast at Woody Bay, but retracing that part of the route will have to await another occasion.
My last POI was Dunkery Beacon, the highest point in Exmoor. Historically I would have walked here from Exford and continued on towards Dunster, but this time I cheated by parking perhaps less than a mile from the peak. The views were fantastic.
I thoroughly enjoyed the day. Good memories, ephemeral though they may be, are certainly a blessing.
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| Lee Abbey private beach |
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| The furthest I ventured |
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| Lee Abbey |
My last POI was Dunkery Beacon, the highest point in Exmoor. Historically I would have walked here from Exford and continued on towards Dunster, but this time I cheated by parking perhaps less than a mile from the peak. The views were fantastic.
I thoroughly enjoyed the day. Good memories, ephemeral though they may be, are certainly a blessing.
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| Towards Dunster |
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| Looking south |
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| The cairn |
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| Towards west Exford and Lynton |
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| An unknown hiker starts towards Dunster |
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| This device wasn't there in my days! |
20140724
The best part of the day
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| Could be a nice place to live |
At this time of the year it is light way before 6:15 am when I arose this morning for my barefoot constitutional with the dog. The weather has been glorious and the destination was the "shorter lake run" and swim. Without doubt this is the best part of the day, quiet and fresh. You don't see many others running around the lake shore at this time, in fact... And the water is so warm. Naked, one slips into the water like a spoon into tea - none of this agony as one's costume gets wet around the midriff. Of course I cannot condone swimming in the lake as it is strictly taboo: there have been too many fatal drownings over the years. However there are places that I have charted when the lake has been very low and I therefore know to be relatively safe - but I do not go out of my depth even so.
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| The bridge and over the hills and far away |
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| She somehow manages not to get her head wet |
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| Ain't she beautiful? |
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| Moanbane backdrop |
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| Morning sun on troubled waters |
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| The lake shore |
20140720
Why do people wear shoes?
I've been doing this barefoot running lark consistently for several years, and now find myself increasingly going around barefoot for normal activities too. Ali and others (even myself) are still a bit embarrassed about me going around unshod so sometimes I don shoes just in order not to cause offence. And of course I wear shoes when necessary for protection. But I am more and more convinced that the main reason people wear shoes is cultural. And what a poor reason given all the disadvantages of wearing shoes see here or here or here.
As an example, in church I feel at liberty to remove my shoes when sitting in the congregation (and I note that others do) but apparently I have to wear them if I go to the front to lead a song or whatever. Whereas with Moses it was the other way about. Strange.
I've noticed that more people in the community here are going around barefoot, albeit mostly only indoors, doubtless feeling freer to do so following my example - help! - what have I started?
Once I thought it might be dangerous to drive barefoot. But I now find I have much better control when barefoot. Try driving whilst wearing gum-boots, or operating delicate machinery whilst wearing heavy gloves, as an indication of the antithesis.
As an example, in church I feel at liberty to remove my shoes when sitting in the congregation (and I note that others do) but apparently I have to wear them if I go to the front to lead a song or whatever. Whereas with Moses it was the other way about. Strange.
I've noticed that more people in the community here are going around barefoot, albeit mostly only indoors, doubtless feeling freer to do so following my example - help! - what have I started?
Once I thought it might be dangerous to drive barefoot. But I now find I have much better control when barefoot. Try driving whilst wearing gum-boots, or operating delicate machinery whilst wearing heavy gloves, as an indication of the antithesis.
So maybe I had better make it clear - I am not going barefoot in order to be rebellious or to start a trend. I am doing it because I want to and because it is good for me, same reason as I eat ice cream or read a book or go for a bike ride. Whilst I feel sorry for folk that are enslaved by shoes and I try to keep away from their consequential smelly feet, I have no intention to proselytize. Why should I? - they seem to be happy with their lot.
I suppose my mother must have ingrained in me the need to wear shoes. Back in those days maybe it was only paupers that went barefoot. My mother also taught me to dry myself most completely after taking a bath or a swim and to take great care to clothe wisely when in the rain for fear of contracting some terrible disease. But I have found that being out in a rainstorm is actually pleasurable and the less I wear the better, that the killer is getting cold not getting wet. So now I rarely use a towel after swimming. And how good it is to swim when it is raining!
I wonder how many other things I continue to do - preconceptions - for no better reason that because I was taught to? Not that this is necessarily a bad reason for doing stuff.
20140719
Song of Albion 6
I must try to be focused. My purpose in these posts on music is to try to answer the question of "what sort of music should be acceptable in church?". Clearly lots of people have already got strong opinions on this - witness the diversity of musical expression in churches - and who am I to gainsay them? But you can hardly fail to have noticed the prevalence of what has become known as CCM or Christian Contemporary Music.You may also have noticed that some CCM is a major money-making industry.
To be proper and legal our church is a member of CCLI and, when we project lyrics, we duly display the copyright owner if known. Our annual dues to CCLI are based on how many times we have sung particular songs and thus the copyright owners get paid. We pay the Christian music industry so that we can worship God. Really? Yes really.
We are privileged to have several anointed songwriters in our small congregation. I do not think that they get paid by CCLI when we sing their songs!
I don't have any problem with people being enterprising about making money. People have to live. I don't have any problem with Christian song-writers selling their wares to help make a living or at least cover expenses. But I do have a problem with people charging for the "Christian" ministry they claim to be providing. Jesus paid the taxes due and Judas carried the purse so they must have had something in the way of finances, but I cannot imagine Jesus charging for his ministry. Somehow it just doesn't fit. To the twelve Jesus instructed "Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons. You have received freely, freely give."
I would like to tease out, in these posts, whether the nature or suitability of the artist's music is affected by their financial inclinations.
With this in mind I have started to take more attention of who the artist is of the songs we sing in worship. Apart from our own songs (which make up a major proportion) I see that we sing a lot of songs by Chris Bowater. So I checked out his web site - it is refreshing that you can freely download sheet music for many of his songs there. This is unprecedented - it is unusual to find free sheet music for current musicians. He also has some good things to say on the CCM debate. And he is also a mature pastor of what looks like a lively church in the UK. All this bodes well for my theory...
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To be proper and legal our church is a member of CCLI and, when we project lyrics, we duly display the copyright owner if known. Our annual dues to CCLI are based on how many times we have sung particular songs and thus the copyright owners get paid. We pay the Christian music industry so that we can worship God. Really? Yes really.
We are privileged to have several anointed songwriters in our small congregation. I do not think that they get paid by CCLI when we sing their songs!
I don't have any problem with people being enterprising about making money. People have to live. I don't have any problem with Christian song-writers selling their wares to help make a living or at least cover expenses. But I do have a problem with people charging for the "Christian" ministry they claim to be providing. Jesus paid the taxes due and Judas carried the purse so they must have had something in the way of finances, but I cannot imagine Jesus charging for his ministry. Somehow it just doesn't fit. To the twelve Jesus instructed "Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons. You have received freely, freely give."
With this in mind I have started to take more attention of who the artist is of the songs we sing in worship. Apart from our own songs (which make up a major proportion) I see that we sing a lot of songs by Chris Bowater. So I checked out his web site - it is refreshing that you can freely download sheet music for many of his songs there. This is unprecedented - it is unusual to find free sheet music for current musicians. He also has some good things to say on the CCM debate. And he is also a mature pastor of what looks like a lively church in the UK. All this bodes well for my theory...
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20140708
Song of Albion 5
To start at the beginning of this series of posts on music click here. The title "Song of Albion" in an allusion to Stephen Lawhead's trilogy - chosen because his concept echoes some of my own thoughts.
Have you noticed how, in community singing, people rarely give the last note of a phrase its full musical measure? To the point that, if you do, you feel totally out on a limb? You may also have noticed that kid's recorder playing can be painful? And yet a recorder consort can make a surprisingly beautiful noise, for example:
In a recent post I pointed out that you can get away with low resolution colour in video provided outlines in the picture portrayed are sharply defined. Edges, boundaries, have great importance. "Remove not the ancient landmark which thy fathers have set". Children, indeed all of us, need clear boundaries for living. In science at least (what do I know of other subjects?) concise definitions are essential for the development of argument, and a definition limits a concept within a boundary. So it is with music. Without boundaries to say how long a note should be played, or at what pitch or intensity, music would be chaos. "If even lifeless instruments, such as the flute or the harp, do not give distinct notes, how will anyone know what is played?" Correct intonation is what differentiates the good musician from the masses. "Correct", of course, does not necessarily imply rigid time or even perfect pitch because music is not mechanical - it breathes life from its creator.
Boundaries and edges imply variation. If all parts of a picture were the same colour then there would be no edges and it could hardly be called a picture. The amount of variation will of course vary according to mood. Turner (one of my favourite artists) uses this to great effect by exaggerating lack of definition to emphasise the edges of his subject. Presented with chaos the eye tries to find definition. That's how my mother reckoned she could see all many of shapes in cloud formations, shapes that I could never see.
The master knows just where to place an edge to full effect. I used to teach people to drive. When sitting in the passenger seat it becomes quickly obvious whether the student has good control of the car or not. The car obeys a good driver and one feels safe. Conversely the car seems to have a mind of its own and takes the bad driver by surprise: it is uncontrolled, no edges. I know when my piano playing is good because, at those (rather rare) times, I find the sound it makes is exactly what I want.
In community singing (for example praise and worship in church) we may not be wanting a "performance" but I see no reason why the music should not be "good". Why should our singing always be as loud as possible but the last notes of each phrase be curtailed, why not embrace more variety in rhythm and style, and in instrumental accompaniment? Should we not strive to increase the beauty in all that we do?
Mind you, I remember a man in the church my grandparents went to - Smee was his name I think - he sang the hymns with a loud and raucous voice hopelessly out of tune and, when challenged on the subject, I remember him saying that he knew he couldn't sing well but his over-riding desire was to use whatever he had, voice included, to give glory to his God and no-one was going to stop him. And at the time I bought that argument, and I still do. Nevertheless I long for something better...
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Have you noticed how, in community singing, people rarely give the last note of a phrase its full musical measure? To the point that, if you do, you feel totally out on a limb? You may also have noticed that kid's recorder playing can be painful? And yet a recorder consort can make a surprisingly beautiful noise, for example:
In a recent post I pointed out that you can get away with low resolution colour in video provided outlines in the picture portrayed are sharply defined. Edges, boundaries, have great importance. "Remove not the ancient landmark which thy fathers have set". Children, indeed all of us, need clear boundaries for living. In science at least (what do I know of other subjects?) concise definitions are essential for the development of argument, and a definition limits a concept within a boundary. So it is with music. Without boundaries to say how long a note should be played, or at what pitch or intensity, music would be chaos. "If even lifeless instruments, such as the flute or the harp, do not give distinct notes, how will anyone know what is played?" Correct intonation is what differentiates the good musician from the masses. "Correct", of course, does not necessarily imply rigid time or even perfect pitch because music is not mechanical - it breathes life from its creator.
Boundaries and edges imply variation. If all parts of a picture were the same colour then there would be no edges and it could hardly be called a picture. The amount of variation will of course vary according to mood. Turner (one of my favourite artists) uses this to great effect by exaggerating lack of definition to emphasise the edges of his subject. Presented with chaos the eye tries to find definition. That's how my mother reckoned she could see all many of shapes in cloud formations, shapes that I could never see.
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| "Rain, Steam and Speed", J. M. W. Turner |
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| The "Fighting Temeraire", J. M. W. Turner |
The master knows just where to place an edge to full effect. I used to teach people to drive. When sitting in the passenger seat it becomes quickly obvious whether the student has good control of the car or not. The car obeys a good driver and one feels safe. Conversely the car seems to have a mind of its own and takes the bad driver by surprise: it is uncontrolled, no edges. I know when my piano playing is good because, at those (rather rare) times, I find the sound it makes is exactly what I want.
In community singing (for example praise and worship in church) we may not be wanting a "performance" but I see no reason why the music should not be "good". Why should our singing always be as loud as possible but the last notes of each phrase be curtailed, why not embrace more variety in rhythm and style, and in instrumental accompaniment? Should we not strive to increase the beauty in all that we do?
Mind you, I remember a man in the church my grandparents went to - Smee was his name I think - he sang the hymns with a loud and raucous voice hopelessly out of tune and, when challenged on the subject, I remember him saying that he knew he couldn't sing well but his over-riding desire was to use whatever he had, voice included, to give glory to his God and no-one was going to stop him. And at the time I bought that argument, and I still do. Nevertheless I long for something better...
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Do you see three
I am using an Active-X control within Visual Basic. The control takes a string input and outputs a barcode image. The barcode is capable of encoding binary data. The literature that comes with the control says "The data to be encoded must be represented in the form of a string and it is impossible to represent binary data in a string." Clearly they are using the 'C' language or a derivative, how else could they state such utter nonsense? Why else would they come up with such a contrived and convoluted arrangement of escape characters to send the dreaded-in-'C' null character? Why make the world more complicated than it already is? Why refute occam's razor?
Thankfully Visual Basic is relatively sane when it comes to data storage. It offers a choice of fixed length strings (in which n bytes of arbitrary binary data include null aka 'chr(0)' occupy exactly n bytes of memory - how can you do better than that?) or variable length strings, and a wealth of string functions which accept either variant.
Thankfully Visual Basic is relatively sane when it comes to data storage. It offers a choice of fixed length strings (in which n bytes of arbitrary binary data include null aka 'chr(0)' occupy exactly n bytes of memory - how can you do better than that?) or variable length strings, and a wealth of string functions which accept either variant.
20140707
How accidents happen
So - yesterday I cycled some 40 miles to the coast, had a quick bite to eat, then met up at Brittas Bay with the youngsters who had come by car. Their first action was to jump in the sea. After resting for 5 minutes or so I thought I would join them and show some solidarity. The sea at Brittas bay gets deep slowly and they were far out by this time - I supposed on a sand bank. Oh, and I forgot to say, I have hurt my chest - maybe a bruised rib or wot-not, it is better than it was but still not 100%. I found I was up to my shoulders on my way out and still no sign of a sand-bank. Anyway I got to where they were, almost out of my depth, and swam around a bit like one does, then decided it was too cold and made for the shore (the others soon followed, it having started to rain). But it seemed like it was only getting deeper. I could not swim well because of my chest and I am not a strong swimmer anyway, and I could not propel myself by foot and, worse still, I was getting cramp. And I now know that the tide was coming in, so I guess it really was getting deeper. I have to admit that I started to panic. But the others were nearby and one had a float which I requisitioned and another helped tow me back until I was well within my depth. By the time I got to the shore my cramp was so bad in both legs that I could not stand. So what would have happened had I not had friends around? Of course it is unlikely that I would have gone so deep on my own, I am that frightened of water, but I might have.
The feeling of panic was scary because it reversed all the self-preservation adrenalin reactions that should have kicked in. It was as if something was telling me "that's it, chum" and was urging me to agree.
And the succession of circumstances - I should not have gone into cold water so deep, so soon after strenuous cycling, or so soon after eating - I was in fact not being careful. That's how accidents happen.
The feeling of panic was scary because it reversed all the self-preservation adrenalin reactions that should have kicked in. It was as if something was telling me "that's it, chum" and was urging me to agree.
And the succession of circumstances - I should not have gone into cold water so deep, so soon after strenuous cycling, or so soon after eating - I was in fact not being careful. That's how accidents happen.
20140706
Bike to coast
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| Morning sun on Sally Gap road |
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| Resting, half way up to Wicklow Gap |
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