Adam Hopwood : Site life and squatters

Site life…spring Somewhere. You decide where. Waking up. Not my favourite thing, but seeing beams of sunlight pierce through the holes in the curtains and hearing people shuffling about outside makes me sit up faster than usual. It’s warm in the trailer… I hop out of bed and open the wonky door, as usual the dog’s push past, going straight into sniff everything mode. I look out, there is a blackened kettle atop of a small fire… Neighbours are busy already. I didn’t want to boil my kettle with gas, so I shouted quietly, any tea? The answer was no. Brandy coffee? That will do nicely. my head weighed nothing and i collapse back into my pit. Within seconds a cup appeared on my doorstep. Got no sugar.. A voice said. I do. I replied. Top cupboard. A pair of black feet appeared, followed by a pair of skinny legs and a crusty t shirt with a dread head on top. A roll up stuck to its lips.. Nice day, I began.. How would you know? Said the dread. I can feel it in my bones I said. I see. And I can smell it the air, I beamed as he tipped enough sugar into my hand. I dropped it in the coffee and gave it a quick stir with a pencil. Cheers, cu in a bit. Yeah, I expect you will he droned, turning and shuffling out, bag of sugar in hand… And bring the sugar back…. Knowing it was unlikely to see it again, I added, well save me a bit..I lit the last bit of spliff that I had left from the night before, with the lighter I couldn’t find last night, but there it was, next to my pillow. I opened the curtain a little letting fresh spring beams in, polluting them immediately with the smoke, I lay back watching the swirls drifting and twisting towards the door, the first of many flies flew in, I dragged myself up to pull the makeshift curtain across taking a step out onto the now dry mud, it felt good underfoot, warm and sponge. A cockrel ran past at speed, followed by another, much flapping and squawking, they didn’t get on. One lived at the top of the green lane that was our temporary home, the other at the bottom, but I guess even cockrels enjoy a bit of mooching about, despite the risks.. The dogs lay dotted about, looking on indifferently, it was their first bit of sun for a while, they were making the most of it, some opting for the soft earth some taking advantage of slightly worse for wear weathered sofas and armchairs. One scraggy little pup had dragged a smelly old blanket under the doorway of a bus, lying half in and half out of the sun, a good thing as the mounting numbers of flies that will come as a result of the humidity when the land dries, all made a beeline, well, a flyline for said grubby object. I looked up the track, the assortment of coloured old lorries, bland little trailers separate with various tarp covered piles of tat, the odd engine, rag n bone, wheels and a mountain of tyres left by previous tenants. Much of this lying in the shadow of a double decker, some punky reggae music drifting down, in the opposite direction, stood a fairly battered range rover, its front end up on jacks. A huge almost clean chrome trailer, with a a homemade trailer board hanging lop sided, in front a flatbed Bedford army truck heaped with cables motors and other bits of broken trucks. More music, and a smouldering fire surrounded by my neighbours, blackened faces on shaven heads, holey t shirts with barely readable slogans, skinny arms poking out, ragged army trousers and boots, two or three bigger people with flowing dreads, chunky tattooed arms and heads full of silver, a group of skinny girls in summery dresses and big boots squidged together with one or two stubborn lurchers, all chattering incessantly, a group of toddlers ran up and down with a homemade go cart, faces still covered in breakfast. Further on still stood a couple of bow tops, a bender and a bug old cart horse munching fresh grass, swishing its tail. Another small fire with a huge cast iron kettle hung on a hook above the gently chuffing smoke, one old flat capped man sat down on a log, his cockrel had returned and sat opposite, next to the goat. A police helicopter flew over shattering the peace for a moment, as everyone stuck two fingers in the air at it.. Then it was nothing more than a a distant whirring, the birdsong and music returning, nice.i caught sight of silver cans being passed, as I heard the prkcushzzzz sound of one being opened I made my way to the group, I had a good feeling about today…