Nostalgia and gulls

Watching "Yesterday", the new film reflecting the life of the Beatles, it seemed a nostalgic view of the Fab Four seen from a distance, but without any of the original music or film tracks; just a single singer who beat out the songs as though recalling the moments in a world that has forgotten them. It was a nostalgic trip, without grit or unexpected twists, lacking the violent death or even the inspirational Ono of the originals. It seemed somehow to be a cheap, cut down version of the past, as though made to attract the fans without the meat of reality. It was, however, good to recollect how much brilliant and original music they gave us, and reflect on how much loss there must be in our own world from genius that never flowered, like the sound of a single hand clapping, or the death of an unripe flower through lack of water. Also, much was filmed in Suffolk, so it's always good to see the county and coastline represented.

At the car park in Haverhill, a solitary gull was feasting on discarded chips. It flapped past silently without its usual raucous call. Gulls are my favourite bird, for their versatility and power of survival. They are the most human of all animals, for they hunt fresh fish, or scavenge dead ones; they survive off flesh or bread; they can walk, swim, dive, fly or glide; they can nest on wild cliffs or roof tops, and live in great colonies or in solitary isolation, and their communication is a great squawking. I miss the call of the gulls and the sound of the sea.

Last night, Edwin returned to us from the monastery in Kathmandu. He was unusually quiet after his enforced silence and abstinences, but the lateness of the plane and the hour meant it was already past 2a.m. on his clock, before we picked him up. We will perhaps hear more of his journeys when he awakens, probably late, today.