Crosby, Formby and Southport

One day trip found different weather in the morning and afternoon to suit each location. By train to Crosby's Blundell Sands, the moody clouds suited the Gormley statues gazing out to sea, and so many of them you had to look closely to spot any real people moving about. Sea holly prickled through the dunescape looking back to seaside coloured buildings under a doomladen sky. By the afternoon, Freshfields, near Formby, where the red squirrels live in what is the archetypal Winnie the Pooh wood, was sunny, tropical beached and as deserted as Crusoe's island. The squirrels, after a tantalizing wait, skittered chittering down a tree trunk, like auburn chipmunks. We finished in Southport, Napoleon the Third's gracious boulevards a Parisian glimpse, before taking the train back to Manchester. It was worth several days out.

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Two teddies are now

Both in my keeping,

Gifts to toddler grandchildren, us.

When new, Bruin was purple, larger,

With a deep growl.

My brother's.

Teddy was smaller, fawn,

Mine.

He lost his growl after an unfortunate fall

And a sink bath.

I loved Teddy with a depth which included emotional guilt.

I was jealous because Bruin was bigger and purple

And my own ted must never know of that.

I was the oldest but the girl.

Perhaps that played into who got which bear.

Bruin is no longer purple,

Faded after decades on my brother's windowsills,

At home and in his flat.

For a few years now, both have looked down from

The high shelf beside my daughter's childhood raised bed.

They leaned together, slightly forward,

As if wanting to come down.

I climbed up to get them the other day and soon saw why.

Both lambswool, moths have pecked their back legs into small

bald patches.

It's been a poignant time as my mother has lately died too.

I felt I had let them down, the two teds,

Neglected while cherished still.

I've dusted them off and put them on the coverlet

Of the single bed below,

Where they seem more contented, two old men together.

Better now, their worn little faces seem to say.