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Around this time of year, more or less fifty years ago, began the Summer of Love. Out of those who were there, who can remember whether it was Mick Jagger or Harold Wilson that said: “If you can remember the sixties you weren’t there”? That’s if it wasn’t John Lennon. Or maybe it was Doctor Timothy Leary? Remember him? Of course, you don’t. For the life of me, I can’t remember, so I must’ve been there.
Sorry, for the inconvenience but, in commemoration of the 50th anniversary, this article has been slightly re-edited and re-published elsewhere on the site. The full experience can now be enjoyed by clicking onto this link. It’s well-worth the extra effort.
Singer Songwriter / Writer / Outsider|Vocal Animateur/Poet/Performer/ Learning Gardener| Ducker & Diver| Lover of Nature|Clown|Snapper of pics since 1968|Mother of Sam & Kasia xx|Lover of sea & sky, trees and The River Thames|Confused by Human Beings?| Almost given up| ?
Une fois. Encore.
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