Missing

To be or not to be is the question for Southport pier. It is there as a phantom stretching its considerable length over reaching sands, but shut, locked to those faithful wanting to tread the rebuilt wooden boards to the distant sea or to reach the Pier’s head and Pavilion with its distractions and welcome cups of tea. The original iron pier, the longest, bar one at Southend, was built in 1860, its length 3,600 ft ,its architect was Richard Krill Freeman and was Grade II listed. Pleasure and fishing boats would berth at pier head until the bay silted up and the length was extended (tides go out far beyond it).
In the year 2000, the structure was rebuilt with poor materials and workmanship which has apparently caused the wooden boards to need replacing much earlier than expected and in December ‘23 the order from structural engineers was ‘Times Up”. The special timber used for the flooring has to be sourced from West Africa. There have been “scare stories” saying that the whole is to be demolished but this has been denied by the owners, we shall see!The Pavilion is host to a vintage arcade of appealing penny slot machines with tiny animated papier-mâché scenes of bedroom farce and a poor soul being hanged, fortune telling, bagatelle and the ubiquitous laughing sailor seen usually at funfairs. Southport’s pier is not a seductive, gothic, starling murmuration edifice as Blackpool’s North pier was when I last visited, but is a straight, no frills place which walking, wind whipping your cares into a cocked hat feeling of temporary escape as you perch above muddy northern sands is gold dust. With the view of massed razor shells, herring gulls and mallard, then watching the fishermen from the head trying for eels, flounders, doggies and schoolies and the sweeping vista towards Blackpool tower. I miss the amazing beauty of sunset seen through it’s metal heart.
Not a place but missing a friend- Fragment I carry the weight of her along the summer lane grasses bow and shift as if uncomfortable with grief sun bears down on willow herb this mighty weed moves in to lift a heart to grace a lane. Thank you for your reading time. Cynthia.
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