That May Day Feeling

That May Day Feeling

It had been over thirty years since I’d had that feeling. Anyone who grew up in Knutsford or has lived their formative years here, will recognise what that feeling is.

It begins as ‘butterflies’ around the middle of February, when we hear that the Queen has been selected, along with her Ladies in Waiting and Crown Bearer.  The ‘butterflies’ turn into nervousness when the date is issued in the Knutsford Guardian for the costume fittings in March.  Nervousness turns into all-out stress on costume day, believe me, this has always happened. Camping out at 6am, shouty mothers, moody fathers, elbows and the fear of getting the costume that no one else wants if you arrive too late. After the costumes, there’s a lull, time to relax a little.  The blossom begins to appear on the trees and the children of the town will start saving their pocket-money while subconsciously planning which fairground rides they will be making a beeline for this year (height restrictions allowing of course).  Then it gets to the near hysterical point, well, it does when you’re eight years old, on the Monday before the first Saturday in May, when the lorries, caravans and generators arrive at the Heath and begin to set up.  Of course that feeling is the utter excitement the kids of our town feel when Knutsford Royal May Day is finally here!

Growing up in the seventies and eighties, a combination of one of my sisters, both of them or all three of us, took part in the Royal May Day procession.  Between us we’ve been, Goldilocks, Italian girl, Welsh girl, Maypole dancer, Flower-Girl, Jill, and my middle sister had the honour one year of being a little Mexican boy (see above regarding the perils of late arrival).

When I left home at eighteen, I didn’t look back for a while.  There was University, then jobs in major cities, Australia for a while, America for a while and living in other faraway places meant that, that feeling, became a distant memory.  Long buried, hidden away, lost maybe, along with my Rubik’s cube, really bad hair and Adam Ant singles.

I came back to live in Knutsford three years ago.  Like many of my school friends who left and came back, we did so in part to recapture the idea of the idyllic childhood for our own kids, the childhoods that many of us had growing up in Knutsford. Knutsford Royal May Day is part of the fabric of the town, and a part of what made our childhoods so memorable and good.  And good to remember.

I’ve settled back into Knutsford life now, it’s really not that difficult.  But in February, when I opened the Knutsford Guardian and my young daughters scrambled over each other to see who had been selected as May Queen this year (the lovely Miss Sofia Chowdry), I got that feeling again.  The first time in decades and it felt really good.

Have a wonderful Royal May Day on Saturday Knutsfordians.

Author Cllr Charlotte Greenstein, Knutsford Town Council

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