Monday 28 March 2022

The Winter months....

....were gentle in this corner of the world with many pleasant blue sky days, and happily, as far as I am concerned, neither ice nor snow was seen.

During mid-February, we had a frightening red alert, courtesy Storm Eunice, but fortunately no damage was caused here. By the beginning of February Spring was firmly established in both our gardens and the landscape. The early Spring has helped to ease some of the pain caused by sad events, beyond our control, happening in the world today. Getting out into nature, being in a beautiful landscape, surrounded by blue skies and sunshine, is a great tonic.
The snowdrops have completely vanished for this year. The
Prunus spinosa - black thorn blossom is almost finished, and in the blink of an eye the daffodils will soon be nodding their farewells too.
The Magnolia blossom has been spectacular, and achieved its full beauty. The absence of any early morning frosts has prevented their glorious blooms turning brown.
We packed ourselves a picnic, and set off to a favourite walking spot - The Weir Garden in Herefordshire. A spectacular riverside garden bordering the R. Wye as it travels on its long journey from Wales. Eventually it meets up with the might R. Severn, and ultimately, the North Atlantic Ocean.

"All at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

As we sat in the sunshine enjoying our lunch a couple of paddle boarders suddenly came into view, and just as quickly vanished along the swiftly flowing river.

The journey homewards beckons.

Friday 11 March 2022


Face to face talks held in Antalya, Turkey yesterday between Russia’s foreign minister Sergey Lavrov and his Ukrainian counterpart Dmytro Kuleba brought no progress towards achieving a ceasefire in Ukraine. Peace was not on Mr Lavrov's agenda, instead he made a diatribe against the West.

My eldest son, a poet, is writing a daily poem about the inhumane actions that are taking place in the Ukraine. This is his poem from yesterday.


If I say that time rolls forward Mr. Lavrov you will contradict my pathetic fallacy and tell me that time always runs backwards. 

At which moment, I will imagine all Ukrainians walking backwards to freedom, out of the jaws of death, to their former joyous days

of making babies, shooting tiktok videos, adjusting nuclear reactors, improving their agricultural yields and their guided tours of Kyiv.

However, Mr. Lavrov, you are mistaken, for half-a-million people are cut-off in Mariupol

where dead bodies lie in the streets and your people have dropped a large bomb on a Maternity hospital.

The one running backwards in time, 

Mr. Lavrov, is you

a spokesman for poorly-disguised tsarist ambition.