From time to time I get this really awful premonitions. My worst one was the night before the Lockerbie disaster when I actually dreamed about an aeroplane crashing out of the sky onto a residential area although I located it wrongly.
All day today, when I haven't been in meetings I have been obsessively flicking onto the BBC news site convinced that something awful is going to happen to some celebrity whom I admire (I said to a colleague, if only I knew who, I would warn them).
I've just opened my browser, which defaults onto the BBC news front page. The scrolling ticker is saying Queen Mary 2, the largest cruise liner ever built, sets sail on its maiden voyage.
A ghost walked over my grave and I feel quite ill.
The sea will never stop holding a fascination for me. At times so beautiful, other times so unforgiving. Romantic and frightening. Tales from the high seas have always held a special mysticism. Hearing the waves lap on a beach is perfection.
Although I am a landlubber, I have just remembered that one of my favourite poems is John Masefield's Sea Fever:
'Sea Fever'
I must go down to the seas again,
to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship
and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song
and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face
and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again,
for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call
that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again
to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way
where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn
from a laughing fellow rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream
when the long trick's over.
-- John Masefield
Incidentally, if you're a bit like me, and know that you like poetry but aren't sure what you like, you really should click over to The Clock, a poetry blog from our dear friend Uborka Karen. An eclectic mix of the obscure and the famous, and beautifully presented, too.
:Update Oh fuck, this wacky site is predicting it too, although for Jan 9th so it's way off beam.
