KL Caley is our host for the Thursday Write Photo challenge.
This week she gives us Bandstand: oh the memories!
They say you cannot go back, that places are never the same as we remember them.
How very true, but the memories are always there.
In my younger days, there was a bandstand in the park which was in use every weekend throughout the Summer. Flanked by aromatic flower beds in riotous colour, you could hire a deckchair for an hour or so to sit and listen to the band as they played. It was a respite for parents too as their kids could paddle safely in the little stream that ran alongside, one which was carefully maintained and never deeper that a few inches. Paper sail boats were popular, most handmade from a scrap of wood, a stick for a mast and a paper napkin.
There is something about the sound of a brass band, be it of the Salvation Army, armed forces, or even a school concert. The music is in a class of its own, even the most melancholy of ballads touches your soul, makes your skin tingle, and gets into your heart, raising your spirits. Or at least it does for me.
On a Summer’s day, it was not unusual to see people dancing on the grass. Not the bopping disco beat, but proper dancing, waltzes, two steps, even some kids doing their rendition of a polka and collapsing in a giggling heap when they got too carried away.
Sometimes there would be fetes with tombolas, rides, and cakes stalls set out in the park for whatever charity drive was in favour or a fund raiser for a world disaster.
Sitting outside listening to a band as you have a picnic was a lovely way to spend a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.
The bandstand isn’t there anymore. The park is not what it was, the stream no longer there, and the flower beds replaced with concrete and litter bins little used as debris is dropped to blow in the wind. No deck chairs are apparent, and parked vehicles line the route that used to lead to the bus station.