Wednesday 26 March 2014

Wednesday words of whimsey . . .

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Down winding lanes, beneath the dark branches overhead where black rooks crowd and caw,  their eerie voices echoing through the air . . . we walk.  Gold light filters down through the blackened branches . . .  the  sun peering down at us through a cloud streaked pale blue sky . . .

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We pass the lynchgate of a church and meet a bridge.   Lovely is the old grey bridge that takes the burden of this road.  It's rhythmic arches flow gently, bearing their load with the grace that a thousand years has lent to it . . .  Across the way anglers stand in deep recesses, rods in hand . . . patiently waiting for that first tug on the line.  Silent figures in a scene of undisturbed beauty . . .


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Every stone of span and pier has been touched with a mellowed beauty.  Lords and ladies, ploughmen and peddlars, Roundheads, Kings and Cavaliers . . .  which feet have touched these hallowed stones.   Could all have crossed this ancient bridge upon the road of history?   Could they have stood where I now watch the river going down to meet the sea?  I am filled with the awesomeness of a history I may never know . . . but feel in my bones.

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We linger for a moment drinking it in, pondering it's significance and then we continue on slipping down the hill.   Past small cottages, with corners snug and neat.   Through a gateway into fields, now beginning to stripe with the green of growing wheat . . .  and still others turning golden from the rapeseed which grows line upon line upon line . . .

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We pause . . .  poised against the wind . . . watching the Welsh hills growing grey with rain.  Tis time to turn back . . . along the dark edges of the woodland, up the road . . . and home again.  Home sweet home . . .
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which seek thro' the world, is ne'er met elsewhere.
Home! Home!
Sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home
There's no place like home!
~John Howard Payne

Pull up a chair . . . I'll put the kettle on.

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Another bit of whimsey here this morning.   Oh my mind does take some fantastic journies . . .

A thought to carry with you through today . . . 

⊰✿░S░W░E░E░T░✿░B░L░E░S░S░I░N░G░S⊰✿

Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.
~Auguste Rodin  


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........♥ღϠ₡ღ Sending Love To Everyone ღϠ₡ღ♥........
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Cooking in The English Kitchen today . . . a delicious Cauliflower Chowder.

May your Wednesday be a wonderful one!  Dang, this week is going past rather quickly!


8 comments:

  1. Enjoy your day. Mine has flown and filled with the heart break of looking at nursing homes for Dad.

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  2. Oh my! What a glorious part of the world you live in, Marie. The landscape is simply stunning.

    And if you think the week is going fast, just think that on the weekend we change to summer time and in a few days it is April! March has sped by in the blink of an eye.

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  3. It's almost frightening the speed at which our days evaporate Marie! Just makes me want to make each moment count even more! I hate it when the clocks spring ahead. It seems to take me forever to get back that one lost hour of sleep!

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  4. Oh Marie what a beautiful walk that was, the exercise has done me the world of good! Any chance of a piece of cake with my cuppa hahaha! Much love xxx

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  5. You will have to nip over to the kitchen for some cake Kate! I think there's some lemon cake left from yesterday! lol

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  6. Thanks Monique, it helps to live in a beautiful place! Back to rain and blah today!

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Your comments mean the world to me, and while I may not be able to address each one individually, each one is important to me and each one counts. Thanks so much!