Visiting a vintage rally recently reminded me why I love history - and particularly historical fiction. There was an air of nostalgia amongst the polished, painted and perfected motors of the past that evoked a real sense of life in post-war Britain.
Have you ever wondered why some people hang on to relics of the past, nurturing them like small children, trying to keep themselves, as well as their possessions, forever young? It's because we don't want to grow old. Twenty-something are now having botox, thirty-year-olds worry about finding a suitable man to father their children, whilst older women are busy telling everyone that 'fifty is the new forty.'
Meanwhile, we all watch as the world changes, wondering what to expect next. Floods in summer, sunshine instead of snow, seem to have become the norm. Maybe we'll all need to build a Noah's ark, or at least have a van-cum-canoe on the drive. But for now we can wallow in the past - and still look forward to the future.
Meanwhile, we all watch as the world changes, wondering what to expect next. Floods in summer, sunshine instead of snow, seem to have become the norm. Maybe we'll all need to build a Noah's ark, or at least have a van-cum-canoe on the drive. But for now we can wallow in the past - and still look forward to the future.
