AWA

Flatten the Hay

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  • 2009.07.05
  • 4:18
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Finding the sun in an Irish summer is somewhat akin to Russian roulette... anyway We would spend August in Arklow and Courtown and I would be clutching my cricket set. Gotta play! Jump over walls, flatten the hay. A quick evening session before we could even have time to reflect on our holiday commencing. Will we play football or go pitch and putting? We know we have swing-ball but we'd always plump for the gentlemen's game. Yellow the grass, flatten the hay. All day... The farmer would come before the bad weather. Our pavilion would seem like a blur in the ether. The night would creep in on our Indian summer. But tomorrow would bring a new crease to discover. D.i and I.t, Gatting and Willey, may sound so silly to the uninitiated. For me and my brother they conjured up visions of heroes who stood against all of the things that we hated. Let's jump over walls and flatten the hay. All day... all summer long. When we were young.

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