During this season of blossom and renewal I am reminded of the words used by A.E. Housman in A Shropshire Lad, written as a young man of twenty at a time when seventy was considered to be good.
"Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room".
These thoughts are a gentle reminder of how time is of the essence and every moment so precious.
The weather has been perfect, and we have been making the most of it following what felt like a very long confinement during the winter months.
A visit to Buscot Park for a stroll along the water rill designed by Harold Peto for Lord Faringdon at the beginning of the c20th was our choice of destination. There was plenty of welcome dappled shade beneath the canopy of fresh green growth on the trees.
Having now reached the lake, I also discovered when back at home, that it was also the end of the line as far as using the computer was concerned. I could not finish this post or export photos - was it blogger or the computer?
Previously I have solved problems sometimes with wise advice from eldest son, but I was finding things far too complicated to solve via a long distance phone call. Everything I tried led me down a different dark pathway with no light at the end. The machine was taken away, and has only just now returned. It appears that my Apple Mac is not the junior I thought it was but is really past it's retirement date. Obsolescence is built into them from the minute you bring them home. I am not sure how things stand at the moment as problems are still being encountered. I may be absent for some time during the foreseeable future.