The tree with the hole

Today has gone from being a horrid day, to a hugely magical one.  It's amazing the difference that about twelve hours will make!

It was the day of the Fleet Singers' concert. They were performing Songs About the Weather at St Anne's church and I was incredibly proud of them. They always rise to the occasion and pull something special out of the bag in performance. They're such genuinely lovely people and I feel very privileged to have written something which they seem to have taken so much to their hearts. 

The journey down the hill to the rehearsal this afternoon was upsetting in the extreme, however. We arrived at the church a little early and decided to pop down the road to grab a cup of tea. There was nowhere to park so I decided to jump out of the car at the junction with Gordon House Road when the traffic lights were on red. 

Unfortunately, my opening the passenger door coincided with a cyclist tearing down the road in the gap between our car and the pavement in what I've since realised was a mini cycle lane. As I opened the door, he went smack into it and fell onto the pavement in a crumpled heap. All I could do was apologise. I plainly should have looked before opening the door. Apologies weren't enough for him, however. 

As Nathan got out of the driving seat, he got an absolute mouthful, which turned into a mild head butt when Nathan argued back. 

It all became very horrible, very quickly. The bike rider got on his high horse about us being"middle class c***s" and within seconds was threatening to f*** us up; a threat I recorded on my mobile phone. He said he could get £30k out of our insurance for what we'd done, but then decided he was a "reasonable man" and that we could give him £20 to fix the little rubber piece on his peddle which has fallen off and seemed to be the only damage we'd done to the blessed bike and its ghastly owner. I am very sorry I opened my car door and knocked him off his bike, but there's never any need for physical assault in retaliation. 

We gave him his money. He stank of dope and was obviously feeling a little paranoid. During the entire exchange, I simply stood and watched in something of a daze. I realised afterwards, when I burst into tears and then had to sit down because my legs gave way, that I was suffering from shock.  

Still, on we went to the rehearsal, and the day got better and better. Julie, Michelle, Tina, Sam and my

Mum and Dad came to the concert, and seemed very much to enjoy the experience. My Mum, I feel, of all people was able to relate most to the memories from the choir which I'd set to music, particularly the constant running theme of Blow the Wind Southerly, which was my Auntie Gill's theme tune, and the references to Greenham Common. I've always been incredibly proud to be the son of a

CND campaigner. 

I was also thrilled to be able to introduce my father to Beverley in the choir, who last clapped eyes on him in 1959, standing at a bus stop in Nuneaton! She never spoke to him, but knew exactly who he was. She later lived next door to my uncle Ben Till and thought it was a very odd coincidence that the work her choir was singing was written by someone of the same name. It was only when she mentioned she was from the Midlands that the penny began to drop. 

After the performance, we went to the pizzeria opposite and sat outside eating and drinking the night away. Louise the editor appeared with two DVDs of the White City film. Bless her. She'd walked all the way from Finsbury Park to deliver them by hand.

Michelle mentioned one of the memories in the oratorio which had really stood out for her, the one about the tree with the hole in it, and she'd wondered if it was the same tree which I'd mentioned so often in this blog. It is. "I'd love to go some time," she said. I thought for a moment. "Let's go now..." 

...So David, Louise, Michelle, Nathan and I jumped into a car, drove around the edge of the Heath, bailed out somewhere near the Vale of Health and roamed the heath for several hours in the darkness, having a very special adventure which culminated with a visit to the tree, which all five of us climbed inside and sat for some time marvelling at the smooth wood and the circular patterns on the bark within, which we studied by the light of iPhones. 

It was utterly magical. It felt like the place belonged to us and I was sorry when it was time to go. 

Life is about days like this, and I want more of them!