This gorgeous bunch of hand tied garden flowers arrived yesterday in the hands of our friend Sophie and her lovely boy Billy. It was good to see them both. Our home was a revolving door of friends yesterday and that really is the loveliest feeling. The shared horror of the previous evenings events in Plymouth was obviously the main topic of conversation. It is strange to realise that the name of your home city will now be linked with the horror of a mass shooting. Having lived in London and Brighton during terrorist attacks, the familiar feeling of proximity and dislocation from the scene of the crime alongside huge gratitude for not being involved is becoming familiar. It is a struggle for me to understand how this crime is not also terrorism. Not that the category of the crime alters the impact on anyone but the conversations, at any level, change. On the day after a horrific event it was good to have friends, flowers and meaningful conversations.
In the night garden. Late yesterday evening was our first foray into a secret garden close to the new house. The weather was unsure of the exact plan and the evening light was strange. Familiar plants took on slightly surreal shapes as we walked around an unfamiliar place.
I’m unsure how regular our visits will be to this new destination. Sometimes the purpose of a place is not immediately obvious and takes time to reveal itself.
I slightly suspect it will become a place to quietly enjoy plants and books .
But a first visit in a dimpsy, twilight was a good introduction to the future possibilities.
Foggy/Sea Mist morning is my excuse for late blogging, that and extreme domestic admin.
The sea mist is not the scenic kind. Thankfully blooms and bee bottoms have saved me from an empty space where a blog should be.
Actually as I write this the sun has burnt off most of the non-scenic mist but the bee bottoms have fully engaged me now. I even managed to gather a half decent bee in-flight picture.
Bees in the bright pink flowers are fidgety creatures. Resting only for a second or so it is hard to get a good bee bottom shot.
I’m unsure why this should be the pollen supplies look lush and plentiful.
Hugo and Lola required more dog biscuits today. The pet shop is attatched to a garden centre and more busy bees posed, this time no bottom shots!
There we are a late blog featuring a lot of bees, no non scenic sea mist and just because I can, a lovely baby fern leaf.
May Day Ponderings start with a mosaic of flowers I’ve captured during Lockdown.
MayDay is pretty significant in Cornwall , usually, with Fairs and Parades.
In Essex where I grew up it was less significant, I remember watching, on TV, parades of military hardware in Communist Countries.
For no particular reason my primary school set up Maypole dancing classes. A riot of tangled ribbons where badly behaved boys sabotaged the less than accurate danced weavings of the girls. I think there was the promise of us doing a demonstration dance somewhere. I don’t think the Manor Street Primary School Maypole team was ever called into active service.
Here I am in Cornwall on one of its favourite festive days and I have nothing to report,but I can share a last image of pale blooms until next year.
May Day 2021, lets all get as giddy as Maypole dancers and hug each other until our bones hurt. It’s a date.
If you enjoyed Pandemic Pondering#18 about loo rolls , I’ve just read a fabulous blog written on 28th April 2020 about the history of toilet rolls.
Follow this link for enlightenment.