Sunset 4 September - Angus Mackechnie
Looking down on my fellow human beings, I felt both kindly and forgiving towards them – and, equally, angry and frustrated by our misguided race. “You’re all so wrong about so many things,” I thought, “and yet you cannot see it, you cannot help yourselves. Must. Try. Harder.” Then I also thought, “You’re a simple species, not very bright really, and I forgive, love and support you.” I thought of writers and artists who have grappled with mankind’s failings. Dylan Thomas. Shakespeare. Bob Dylan. Matt Cain. Charlotte Brontë. Antony Gormley. Wim Wenders. Etc, etc, etc.
I thought of my mum and her childhood in Hull and how, despite the bombing in the war, the city was a safe place for her in the 1940s.
I thought of nature and how bold and big it is. How much bigger than us.
I smiled at the gulls. I laughed at teenagers showing off on their bikes. I smiled at the couple so proud of their young baby.
Goodnight Hull. Rest well.