I appear to have missed Tuesday — How alarming! In pennance, a poem:
August is drawing its conclusions;
last long weekend looming,
The moon is full reflective,
the mountain ash bright berried,
reminds me of going back to school
Conkers hang green
not yet battle-ready. Drumsticks
suspended, silent in the common lime. Helicopters
spin from sycamores. Drifts
of thistle and rosebay willow herb
tell fuzzy tales of
cold days ahead and white beards;
wild raspberries suited up in red.
The wind breathes in and out the wood
quiet, deep in,
and out with percussion
a compressed musical meditation
on the season
2013 © Oonah V Joslin
Wallington was the home of the historian G. M. Trevellyan. He bequeathed it to the National Trust and so it is that we can wander around it’s lovely walled garden and lake. Here above the walled garden they have taken all the formal planting out to clear th gound for next year. They have sown it with wild flowers. Meadows used to look like this when I was little — used to smell like this. The border was full of buzz and colour and I thought what a shame they don’t just leave it like this. It reminded me how much countryside we have lost. Am I just being an nostalgic old fuddy-duddy? Well frankly I don’t care if I am.
Looking down over the walled garden.
Worth a VISIT
It’s been ten years now since we moved into our little bungalow and we realised that this makes it the longest either of us has lived anywhere since we left our parental homes to go to University!
I decided to buy the place a new sign — NOT DunRoamin’ though — just a new number 🙂 I don’t expect to move house ever again but we have been roamin’ quite a lot since we moved here and we kinda like it!