In a somewhat pensive mood, today.
We all try to do it in our own way.
Me, I walk the woods and hills, trying to recapture
That half-remembered birdsong from my childhood.
Looking for the clear nascent sunlight,
And the cool morning breath of a magical wild rose.
Others revisit old haunts,
Tread half-forgotten streets and peer in shop windows,
Leaf through foxed and fragile pages
Of Peter and Jane, hold china dolls,
And gaze wistfully at black and white seasides.
It’s more than elusive,
But what they have in common,
Is leaving today behind.
Maybe, what I’m really searching for,
Is a different me,
Although I wouldn’t want to be a teenager again.
And if you haven’t tried it,
If you haven’t caught the sound of yesterday,
Or smelt the stale cooking and damp mothballs
Of a long-dead indulgent aunt,
Then perhaps you’re still too young.
Mick Canning 
This actually brought a lump to my throat and made all my smallest hairs stand on end. I suppose I am not still too young. Great work, Mick, I found this truly moving.
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Thank you, Lucy. I suspect you might be too young, though, for all of what you say.
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I hope to be always too young.
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Good plan.
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This piece left me with a odd sadness. I never thought I would be my age……youth just don’t have the ability. One has to evolve….before understanding. I also, would not want to re-do my teens. I’ll accept a back to the future of about 20-25 years, however. Yes, I would love that.
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I know what you mean, Kathryn. Internally, I always feel I’m about 32 or 33 – I’ve felt that age almost ever since I really was that age. I’d go there again, definitely. Perhaps I feel that was when I’d left the worst of the stupidity of youth behind me…
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I’m frequently amused by very young people (teens/early twenties) who look back fondly to their version of nostalgia and I think “just wait…” and remember my parents saying that to me! I like your sentiment. Not surprisingly, perhaps, I’m often looking back – but I do try to be aware of the present and think of the future too… all keep me rooted.
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So important to stay rooted, Val, otherwise we start to wallow in the past. I may not like a lot of things about the twenty first century, but I’m stuck here in it, so I try to make the best of it.
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When I was young, I couldn’t wait to get older. Now that I am old, I wish I were young……but though I wish it, I really wouldn’t want it to happen.
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No, I look at teenagers now and I really wouldn’t want to go through that.
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I know that feeling, there are some sights, sounds and smells that you never forget!
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Absolutely so. And they seem to come back more after a certain age!
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I think this is so evocative; you’ve captured something that is hard to define. Having moved back to a place I grew up in after four decades away, I’m literally walking into it every day.
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That must be quite strange…or is it? I cannot imagine doing the same myself.
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…It would certainly be worth exploring in writing, come to think of it. We’ve moved a lot, but this has definitely been one of the strangest life experiences I’ve ever had.
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Perhaps you should do that. There must have been quite a few memories that came up hard against a brick wall!
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It’s surprising how much remains from the past, maybe reinvented but still recognisable. Fascinating experience. I’m not a novel writer, but it could easily become one.
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I’m sure there are a few novels around on that subject. It’s one of those things that seems to touch us all, eventually.
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We all look back with fondness at moments from our past and perhaps attempt to grasp some of those moments more than others but in truth I don’t think we really want to be young again. We are just remembering feelings, people, and places. I love looking back and immersing myself in those memories but definitely love living life today.
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I would generally agree with that, Jonno. I wouldn’t want to actually go back to that time, but I’d like to capture some of its essence.
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How well you capture the sensation of the past becoming more present as we grow older. And it’s not about wanting to go back – it’s more about seeking some of our earliest pleasures, often from days when we were too young to regard them as pleasures. Just more a sense of place and of being.
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Yes, I think you’re right. It is about seeking out earlier pleasures, and I suppose we didn’t fully appreciate them at the time.
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Or maybe we appreciated them in a different way?
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I’m sure we did.
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I wish I had the words to tell you how much I like this poem … and how it struck me at just the right moment. Thank you for sharing it.
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Thank you. I’m so glad you like it!
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Hi Mick, In your words, I sense a whiff of nostalgia while as well as an air of nonchalance as you look back at the past. I feel that the poem reflects not only your mood but also the maturity that comes with the years of experience.
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Certainly nostalgia, Somali. Whether there’s any maturity there, I’m not so sure! And as for nonchalance, I’m really not certain. I think as we get older, the subject becomes a little too serious for nonchalance.
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Maybe I didn’t use the right words here, Mick. What I meant was that along with the nostalgia that the memories bring, I sense a kind of detachment and acceptance of the past that comes with maturity. Somewhat like a photo album which gets you nostalgic but you don’t yearn to go back to those days.
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Possibly. I was being slightly self-deprecating with the maturity comment, but I do really wonder how much detachment and acceptance I really have. As I get older I do find I yearn more for the past, which I know is a reaction against much I dislike about the modern world.
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I see!
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I suppose I’m lucky to not suffer much from melancholy, but then maybe that’s because to a degree the “good old days” are now. But I know what you mean about those old memories.
Nicely written.
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Thanks, Dave. Perhaps you’ll think differently when you start catching us oldies up!
But great to be happy with what you have – that’s definitely something to be envied.
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I agree…if you don’t feel the pull of your past, it’s because you’re too young to have one. Nicely written, Mick!
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Thanks, Ann.
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There may be a wave of nostalgia in the air because I’ve been feeling a similar way myself. Pining for the old days, the lazy, simple days when my oldest boys were young and I was a young mom. I can almost feel them inside me like an ache. Thanks for writing this. It’s good to know I’m not alone.
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Thanks, Kim. So that’s where it’s come from! I knew there must be a reason…
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Wow, beautiful and wistful and moving, Mick. I love this. 🙂
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Thanks, Diana.
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