A stormy day yesterday provided the perfect illustration of a safe harbour. 100 yards and less than five minutes walk divided these two photographs yesterday. The difference is almost unbelievable.
The storm and some commitments kept me out of the water yesterday. But my short walk along Admiralty Road on a stormy day gave me some lovely hugs as I met fellow Stonehouse friends also making the journey from storm to safe harbour.
My feet, and the rest of me woke up at a normalish time 6:00 and needed a light on. Wind and rain outside, but not quite visible. Sunrise was at 6:24 today. Another sure sign that the ‘scrag end of summer’ is fully established in these parts. At this time of day I am accustomed to considering an early dog walk to avoid the heat of the day. Today the consideration is rain avoidance. Hurricane Erin is the cause of our disturbed weather, she is heading to our shores in a less powerful but still disruptive way.
Among my many youthful plans, being a weather forecaster was one potential career path, as was Agony Aunt. Both could easily be revived as interests in semi-retirement.I also wanted to be a window-dresser at Selfridges on Oxford Street, maybe less transferable to the dabbling level of interest that I currently operate on for the other two. One can casually offer advice to others and comment on the weather. Not always at the same time of course.But rearranging a shops window display is not something that can be dabbled at without both causing alarm and probably setting off an actual alarm.
It must have been at this time of year, a year ago that I considered getting a little App operated weather station for our yard. Maybe I should do something about that.
Semi-retirement is like that, so much to do, so little time to do it with all that other dabbling and procrastination going on… Not to mention the weather, because here it comes.
And this my friends is what procrastination looks like on the dog walk.
How would you design the city of the future?
I am no town or indeed city planner so this is entirely a personal fantasy. My city would be a port with a large deep river flowing into the sea.
The river would have islands.
And bridges.
The central area would be traffic-free and would have independent retail outlets and restaurants, parks, libraries and cultural destinations. Book shops and cafes would edge the canal banks while other retailers would cling to the river banks. Low rise mixed use accomodation for holiday makers and long term renters would create calm and shaded squares and back streets. Most importantly the streets would be paved and cobbled with trees providing shade. The real world would be held at bay by the river and canals so the central space could be a kind and comfortable beating heart of the bigger city. A place to connect with people, or not, and to expand thinking and life experience before returning to the real world via water based public transport.
In this fantasy I am simply a city centre kind of designer. The money making, practical and essential suburbs are someone elses responsibility.
Here is a Dartmoor Sheep demonstrating where a Scrag End of Lamb is anatomically. However for the purpose of this blog the sheep is actually chasing down the Scrag End of Summer. Which has been officially declared in this house. Just like Swifts, the birds ; the last of our summer visitors have left the building today. Our Swifts, our family have flown, not for sub-Saharan Africa but for Hong Kong and Canada. So the main events of Summer are done.
However I am a big fan of the scrag end of summer. The slightly faded landscape, the gentler heat and even the unpredictable weather. Sometimes I fool myself that Scrag End Summer is a pretty long time period. But right now we are missing our summer visitors and a bustling busy house. It will take a little adjustment and a few cups of tea before we fully embrace the reality of the Scrag End of Summer 2025.
We’ve had great success with our Canna growing this year. All of them have bloomed. This from a historical and geographical perspective is quite the achievement. Our Cannas have been with us a long time. Some moved from the garden in Cornwall and others from Crystal Palace , they were always grown for the architectural shape of their leaves but we would have loved some flashes of red against the black fences of our two previous gardens. It seems they prefer a white stone yard to show off their blooms. Better late than never. Red is so energising. I just looked red up in my photo file and was hit by some great eye popping reds
It’s funny how the shortening days of autumn make me want to enjoy red and orange in my visual life but I don’t ever really wear a lot of red. Maybe the scrag end of September is the time to change that. Is it brave to wear red at any other time than Christmas? I’m a bit shocked at how much I love these red grids. All started by my red Canna blooming for the first time.
Scrag end of summer in a wildflower meadow. Late August always feels a little worn around the edges but these wild flowers were as fresh as daisies this morning.
The sunflowers were turning their heads to the sun and all felt right with our world.
I enjoy the transition phases of the seasons. Autumn into winter is my least favourite but Christmas and the shortest day pull me through that slump. But right now the joy of sunflowers makes me smile.
And so the first truly greige day of the Scrag End of Summer has arrived. By coincidence this colour chart popped up on Facebook yesterday. The first time I have seen the word greige on a colour chart.
I quite like Scrag End of Summer as it softly blends into Autumn.
Not that I am declaring summer over, just being realistic about the arrival of greige while hoping for a heatwave.
This leaf was photographed on just such a day in September, last year. I was just returning from an impromptu swim and this leaf floated down onto a paving slab that had feint orange markings. Serendipity at its arty best.
theoldmortuary.design 