In A Widow’s Words I wrote about the several significant places where I scattered some of my dear John’s hair – for example at Hever Castle, and in St Moritz. There was one more place I wanted to do it, and I finally addressed this the other day.
It’s a place we loved at Wakehurst Place, a clearing in the woods where birds come to feed. I saw that it’s really called the Himalayan Glade, but we called it Nuthatch Grove.
I wrote about it in People and Places – here’s a link to that chapter: Nuthatch Grove
So I went and did it, managed to spend some time there alone (though it was quite busy with people despite being quite isolated). I took ‘Little John’ and got some photos. All very sad and sentimental.
Amazingly, I really did get several sightings of a nuthatch, so it’s a pretty reliable place to see them. It’s a tiny bird that flits about so quickly and never seems to rest long in one place, so even if I’d had a proper camera it would have been difficult to get a good shot – below is the best I got on my phone camera.
I don’t know if I’ll ever go there again… too painful. Very beautiful though.
I’ve been packing up every last object in my possession in advance of moving house.
These three small random objects, bought relatively recently, are the last things standing in my room.
- A little metal dog, from Snooper’s Paradise in Brighton.
- A little green dragon, from Camden markets.
- A little white llama, from Ashdown Forest Llama Park.
They seem such an odd set of companions, and seem to demand that I use them as inspiration to write a children’s book, using them as characters.
If I didn’t have better things to do, I would write a short story.
‘Once upon a time, there was a dog, a dragon and a llama…’
(Anyone inspired? If so send me your stories and I’ll publish on here.)
I went to another show in London yesterday afternoon and really enjoyed it – 42nd Street at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.
I’ve been to a lot of the London shows in the last few years, but this one I would recommend as the best and most spectacular. If someone from overseas or out of town asks you which show to go and see, well I’d say this one, it won’t disappoint.
I like going to these things without looking them up too much in advance, or looking at the promotional photos, so I can enjoy being surprised, and I’m so glad I did that this time.
I don’t want to say too much about the scenes and staging I really enjoyed, so it doesn’t ruin someone else’s surprise, but some things really ‘wowed’ me and put a smile on my face. Absolutely fantastic dancing, big cast, beautiful costumes and nice staging ideas.
Also, I wondered how many songs I might recognise and it came to five, more than I’d expected. Fantastic live ‘big band’ style orchestra, wonderful sound.
Went a bit mad at the end and bought the programme, the mug, the CD and the fridge magnet!
Well the snow and cold weather are over (I hope) and I’ve suddenly been surprised by Spring! These are daffodils in St James’s Park.
It’s brought with it a resurgence of grief – back to that horror of thinking that the person who was closest to you, who you were sharing your life with, has been snatched away, and will never see a spring again, will never see daffodils again.
I was shocked to think that it’s my fourth spring already since it happened – that I’ve seen four springs now on my own – and cried over the fact he’s no longer here with me.
We used to sit and look at blue skies together, and comment on how the enjoyment of the sky and nice weather didn’t depend on one’s wealth, how anyone could have that pleasure. Now looking at a blue sky is difficult, because of feeling my loss of him, and his loss of being able to ever see the sky again.
It’s such a morbid thought, but for every one of us there will be the spring after we’ve gone, the first of those that we’ll never see.
Somebody else will be looking at daffodils (and maybe remembering us).
I was amused by this painting I saw in a pub somewhere – the red arrows aircraft display team appearing in a traditional Constable painting!
I did see them this year, when they were appearing at an airshow nearby. I must admit I’m always impressed – on a physical level the wonderful noise is just exciting, on a mental level you can’t help but marvel at the wonder of human achievement, and skill, that such a thing is possible.
They always make me think of my father, who passed away many years ago, my first bereavement. He had been in the air force and was always interested in aircraft, in fact my last photo of him was an at airshow – I came across it the other day when sorting things out.
I wonder what Constable would think if he could see how his masterpiece had been embellished?