Trevaunance Beach (Photo: courtesy Clive Benney Collection)
Mike Ricks has penned his fond memories of the place where he was born and grew up – St Agnes. We are sure that it will be a memory-jerker for many, particularly those who shared his time in that north Cornish village.
When Rocky Lane was rocky
and we played up Water Lane.
When everybody walked ‘down beach’
and walked back home again.
When I was sent to get a Hovis
or just sent out to play.
When we walked as far as Cligga
and ran home by midday.
When school was just up British Road
and dinners came by van.
And we climbed along the railings
because back then we can.
When we roamed up on the Beacon
to look for swords and shields.
And we climbed the brambled hedges
and ran across the fields.
We chucked the rocks down mineshafts
and listened for the crash.
We ran up and down the burras
and crawled in arsenic ash.
In rockpools we jerked tiddlers
with limpet on a string.
We dammed the stream with beach spades
where once they streamed for tin.
We had pasties made by mothers.
Saffron cake with a dish o’ tay.
and pots of tea served daintily
on the roof of the Cove Cafe.
There was sand right up to the cliffs
before they built the prom.
And huts were built where once were ships
back in the days long gone.
When we swam between Green Islands
and snorkelled over Maddocks.
When we hid at high tide on Star Beach
and climbed back round the rocks.
When we dived off the harbour wall
and climbed through dripping caves.
We ran across the seaweed rocks
and rode the breaking waves.
Trevaunance and Trevellas.
All was home to me.
Rosemundy, Goonown, Peterville,
From Goonbell to the sea.
(Photo: courtesy Clive Benney Collection)
Mike Ricks who has now retired and living in SE Queensland.