Devonne Brown

I need to go back to Portsmouth, UK to where my boys were born. I’d like to visit my neighbors, and hang with them a day or two. We’re good friends and good company. You don’t find that often enough these days. 

I’d like to take the boys with me too. We could walk along the Hard, and South Sea beach that has not one speck of sand, only rocks rolled smooth by the ocean’s tides. It’s freezing cold there too. You always need a jacket at the beach. This is no beach to catch some rays, you must be brave and dig a hole in the rocks so the constant wind blows over you. Wetsuits are required for swimming in the frigid waters of the North Sea, no lie. But it’s beautiful. There are no finer fish n chip shops in the world than in Southsea or on the Hard. 

Once, we went to  a kite festival at Southsea, just down the hill past Cosham. All manner of kites took advantage of the ocean breeze. There were even Japanese fighting kites. Box kites, round kites, geometric kites, thousands of kites flew over the soccer pitch that day. The star of the show was the mermaid, who flew highest of all. She was the length and the fan of her tail was the width of the field. Her red hair flowed like seaweed in the air. She even had nipples. It must’ve taken fifty ground crew to work her swimming undulations in the sky over Southsea Harbor. What a beauty to behold. The boys were wee crawling lads that day and got wet knees and muddy hands. It was glorious. 

When kiteless, the place is a green soccer pitch at the bottom of Portsdown hill. I’d like to go back up the hill into Widley and visit the Hampshire Rose for a cider, watch people play darts, and talk to my neighbors again. We have a lot to catch up on.