Brahms and Seaford Bay

My work took me to the south coast again. Having left Eastbourne I made haste towards Seaford, turning from the A27 and taking the road through Alfriston. My route followed the Cuckmere river valley and I approached Seaford on the Alfriston Road. My dear little van (I use a few expletives to describe it when in it) lumbered from the village with Donald Macleod (BBC Radio 3: informing me of the fate of poor Clara Schumann’s sons and how Johannes Brahms secretly criticised her for leaving her children for so long, though he never said a word to Clara. As the incline steepened and Alfriston passed into memory, Brahms’ Symphony No.3 began. At Cradle Hill I crested the rise with a stirring part of the symphony accompanying me as I watched Seaford town stretching away to the sea. It was a moment of revelation with strings humming in the cockpit and the autumn sun shimmering on the lapping waves of Seaford Bay. A true period of joy. In keeping with the job I do, joy faded as quickly as it appeared. But it was there and I’m glad I lived through that interlude, however brief.


About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s