David Kirkby on Dave's Substack Poetry Shack

Good morning dear Naz. I tried to reply to this last night, but I was tired and it was on my phone and I must have not hit "send." Which is probably just as well, because I will make more sense now after a good night's sleep. First I must say a heartfelt "thankyou" for your kindness. I wish, indeed, that I did have you as a friend back then, in what felt like an endless friendless time. I found a job. I worked. I studied. I don't remember much of the next 3 years at all though, except for the time I spent in nature - walking and climbing in some of the superb wilderness areas which have always been my sanctuary. Apart from that, I was on auto-pilot. So yes, you are right. I "went to London to arrive at Australia - not as fate, but as choice." That is true. And why did I go, so young? The simple answer is "adventure" - though adventure itself is usually very far from simple. Honestly Naz, it probably seemed mad to everyone but it was straightforward for me. When I turned 15 it meant that I could legally work, part time, outside of school hours. So I found a job (that I hated) in a supermarket and I told myself - and my parents: "If I save every cent, I can travel to Europe when I finish school!" Once they realised I was serious my parents - remarkable people that they were - supported the idea. By the time love came along I felt totally committed. The trip over was already booked and I would not let myself back out. My wonderful friend, Cathy, was too generous hearted to ask me to stay, and I was too stubborn to change my mind. I went to London in January and she moved 600 kms away to study to become a Registered Nurse. It was only going to be a year. We were 17, and we turned 18 on the same day in late June. It felt like we had forever. D