Decaying flower. Wilted but still cololurful. Image: Su Leslie, 2015
Though we’re in the midst of spring, I’m feeling very aware of life and death as turns of the same wheel. The blossoms that have been so prolific on our fruit trees are falling; the petals turning brown on the ground. What’s left behind are the tiny fragile fruit-buds which offer the hope of a harvest to come. But caught in this moment between flower and fruit, the over-riding impression is of decay.
Editing this image of wilting flowers; I realise that I feel a kind of melancholy. I’m looking forward to the fruit, but missing the beauty of the flowers.
Decaying flower; re-edited to better convey my pensive state. Image: Su Leslie, 2015
Unless you’re a New Zealander, you probably haven’t heard that name. But for Kiwis of my generation, the singer-song writer and frontman of Hello Sailor, has been a huge part of the soundtrack of our lives.
Troubled, argumentative, frequently drunk; he personified Rock ‘n Roll’s bad-boy image.That didn’t stop his music being powerful, beautiful, thought-provoking and sometimes utterly breath-taking.
And that is the point of music; of all art. To take our breath away. To make us feel.
And I can’t help believing that right now, we need the capacity to feel. Compassion, empathy, anger: whatever it takes to ease the suffering of our refugee sisters and brothers.
My favourite Graham Brazier song is Billy Bold; written about the 1981 riots in Toxteth, Liverpool. The lyrics are sadly appropriate to today.
Born in the sight of a Liverpool dock
It weren’t the call of the sea
Was the sound of poverty
So they write you down on their social list
Songs of war and girls that don’t exist
And how you can’t be free
Yesterday we were ten years old
Yesterday we were freezing cold
Yesterday you had us bought and sold but now
We are Billy Bold
Must we immigrate or stand and fight?
Troubled times we must unite
Let the chains that bind us be
There’s no need to shout, everybody knows
It’s wilted now, our English rose
Let’s storm the last Bastille
For baton’s hard and the dungeon’s cold
You are black and white, young and old
Yesterday we did what we were told but now
We are Billy Bold
Yesterday we were ten years old
Yesterday we were freezing cold
Yesterday you had us bought and sold but now
We are Billy Bold
And you hear the drums they roll
Street war must take it’s toll
But now we are Billy Bold
What I hoped was just a snuffle turned out to be much more serious and the vet couldn’t offer any hope of improvement. After almost 15 years with us, Sirus’s life ended peacefully in my arms. He is missed. Photo: Su Leslie.
