I often think this country is rather odd, and that it would be far better if I got to rule it.
But what if there was a land I could rule? Now there is: Petieania has risen from the sea!
A few years ago, the shifting sands of Morecambe Bay began to reveal a small patch where the tide was depositing, rather than washing away. Just outside Travis Perkins and The Ship Inn on the edge of Sandside, it has gradually grown to a point where it even has some tufts of grass growing on it’s young surface.
After first observing it’s early attempt at forming a land-like appearance a few years ago, my visiting niece, Lucy, and I agreed that it should have a name, to give it a sense of purpose, as it battled the twice-daily eroding rampage of the incoming tide. Being an immensely selfish Uncle, it became Petieania, rather than Lucytania.
It was agreed that it should be defended against invaders, but lacking an army, we decided that guard albatrosses (or albatri, as we concluded the plural should be) would keep it free from those that may covet it’s sandy shores, and enviable position. I have seen a few Curlew’s wandering around on there though, so we may have to fire the gulls, and employ something more sturdy instead. ‘Defended by Herons’ has a nice ring to it, and they should certainly be able to see what’s coming.
Heading out for my customary walk last weekend, I decided to swing by my new Kingdom, and see how it was doing close up. Walking that stretch of the shore had become increasingly tricky, as the old footpath has been steadily washed away, leaving a drop of several feet into the muddy estuary an increasing likely scenario. Not this time though – Petieania has risen up nearly to the old level of the path.
As I stepped gingerly from the path onto it’s virgin surface, I found myself muttering “It’s one small step for a balding middle-aged man from Arnside, one giant leap for mankind”. (I may have briefly walked in an exaggerated slow-motion too.) It was firm underfoot. Tentatively, I walked across it’s surface until I was stood at it’s very centre, where a few tufts of greenery were struggling to poke their way through. This, I thought to myself, will be my capital.
After a few moments, I realised I probably looked like a bit of spanner to passing motorists, so I continued homewards, where I tweeted Lucy the good news. She replied pointing out that I should have planted a flag. Damn – why didn’t I think of that? Still, the Heron Defence League will keep it safe until I can return, triumphant, and plant the flag that will herald the dawning of a new empire!
Right then. Where are my colouring pencils? And have we got any lolly sticks?
This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on the 10th of May 2013. You can view the version used by the paper here where it was retitled 'Kingdom rose from the sea'.
Just one word got changed this week - the word 'spanner' was replaced by 'fool'. I know. Go figure.
(I have a fine selection of new CD's tonight, as it was my birthday today. Currently listening to a nice compilation called 'Cutting Edge 80s - The Alternative Sound Of The Decade'.)
But what if there was a land I could rule? Now there is: Petieania has risen from the sea!
A few years ago, the shifting sands of Morecambe Bay began to reveal a small patch where the tide was depositing, rather than washing away. Just outside Travis Perkins and The Ship Inn on the edge of Sandside, it has gradually grown to a point where it even has some tufts of grass growing on it’s young surface.
After first observing it’s early attempt at forming a land-like appearance a few years ago, my visiting niece, Lucy, and I agreed that it should have a name, to give it a sense of purpose, as it battled the twice-daily eroding rampage of the incoming tide. Being an immensely selfish Uncle, it became Petieania, rather than Lucytania.
It was agreed that it should be defended against invaders, but lacking an army, we decided that guard albatrosses (or albatri, as we concluded the plural should be) would keep it free from those that may covet it’s sandy shores, and enviable position. I have seen a few Curlew’s wandering around on there though, so we may have to fire the gulls, and employ something more sturdy instead. ‘Defended by Herons’ has a nice ring to it, and they should certainly be able to see what’s coming.
Heading out for my customary walk last weekend, I decided to swing by my new Kingdom, and see how it was doing close up. Walking that stretch of the shore had become increasingly tricky, as the old footpath has been steadily washed away, leaving a drop of several feet into the muddy estuary an increasing likely scenario. Not this time though – Petieania has risen up nearly to the old level of the path.
As I stepped gingerly from the path onto it’s virgin surface, I found myself muttering “It’s one small step for a balding middle-aged man from Arnside, one giant leap for mankind”. (I may have briefly walked in an exaggerated slow-motion too.) It was firm underfoot. Tentatively, I walked across it’s surface until I was stood at it’s very centre, where a few tufts of greenery were struggling to poke their way through. This, I thought to myself, will be my capital.
After a few moments, I realised I probably looked like a bit of spanner to passing motorists, so I continued homewards, where I tweeted Lucy the good news. She replied pointing out that I should have planted a flag. Damn – why didn’t I think of that? Still, the Heron Defence League will keep it safe until I can return, triumphant, and plant the flag that will herald the dawning of a new empire!
Right then. Where are my colouring pencils? And have we got any lolly sticks?
This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on the 10th of May 2013. You can view the version used by the paper here where it was retitled 'Kingdom rose from the sea'.
Just one word got changed this week - the word 'spanner' was replaced by 'fool'. I know. Go figure.
(I have a fine selection of new CD's tonight, as it was my birthday today. Currently listening to a nice compilation called 'Cutting Edge 80s - The Alternative Sound Of The Decade'.)
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