“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Mary Oliver
… an English summer’s day is such a joy, how can we not yearn for many of them?
How do I remember June? She certainly gave us a performance of two halves.
Her early exploits were dry and warm, with blazing days of open skies, freshness and bright sunshine. Summer was splashed all over June’s opening scenes. Continue reading “The View from Here: rose-coloured June”
On a sunshine-filled day in May, the view from here is exhilarating.
It seems that when it rains in Cornwall, it rains properly. Often it’s a soft, gentle rain, so fine that it’s almost invisible – unless you’re standing in it. And sometimes it’s hard, heavy and unforgiving. We’ve had entire days of rain, and even more long nights of it. But looking back at May, I think we did pretty well on the weather front. Continue reading “The View from Here: exhilarating May”
Like the trees in Larkin’s poem, we are beginning afresh.
Quite a few years ago I had a pen-friend in Saskatchewan and she used to refer to ‘green up’. In her corner of the world there was snow for many months and then – suddenly it seemed – green up. I often think of her and that phrase at this time of year. Continue reading “Green Up”
On crowding ferns bluebells and hazel leaves
A mid-month Friday provided the perfect opportunity to explore the bluebell woods that Roy the dahlia-grower had told me about. I set off eagerly. Continue reading “The Bluebell Woods”
