Nostalgia

I don' live in the past but every so often I have an acute pang of something experienced long ago. A sight, a sound, a smell and it all floods back.

A couple of weeks ago, enjoying a magnificent Indian summer weekend on the Suffolk coast, a strident sound made me look up into the blue sky. There, in a miraculously straight V formation, wild geese flew overhead, migrating to warmer climes for the winter. All my country childhood long, I looked forward to seeing just that and every year, the thrill was just as great.

And then there is the scent of hyacinths. Sharp and memorable and when I smell that, I remember the excitement when as a little girl, I was taught how to cut and paste conical, brightly coloured paper hats to prevent light getting to the bulbs, which we put into their special hyacinth glasses, waiting for the roots to develop before removing the hats. Then there was the impatient wait for the flower to unfold and to discover what colour it would be. And that heavenly smell!

Dragon flies. They are a rare sight in a city garden but when I do see one, I remember my - completely unsuccessful - attempts, as a child, to tame them. To talk to them, get them to be my friends, my own special pets!

Ah well, recalling the past can be fun!