Cotswolds

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Crocodile Water Spout

I mentioned the crocodile water spout in my last blog but forgot to attach my photos so they are below.  I love the fact that a respected cotswold stone builder from the nearby village of Hazleton built this feature in the 19th Century.  Presumably some local landowner paid for it.  The spring water has been gushing out of the crocodile’s mouth ever since.  Some days, like yesterday, after lots of heavy rain, it is a truly spectacular sight.

Yesterday, as I took photos of the crocodile from every angle, a  young boy was walking with his father to St Oswald’s Church, which is set on the hill right above the crocodile.  He is clearly used to jumping the stream to save walking all the way along the road.  I don’t know whether it was his desire to show off or his amazement at seeing a ‘mature’ lady photographing water coming out of a spring, but whatever distracted him he landed right in the fast flowing water.  I had to smile as he walked up the hill to church with soaking wet shoes and very soggy trouser bottoms!

I wish I could capture the sound of the pure rushing water for you but my photos will have to do.  I marvel at the fact that nature produces a constant supply of fresh water for us here.  Would that other parts of the world were so lucky.

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Summer Sunday

Sweet the skylark’s song,

Over fields of lavender,

Where tireless swifts soar.

The sun shone today for the first time in ages so I went off up the hills above Broadway to Snowshill and the Cotswold Lavender Farm.  The wonderful aroma of lavender fills the air here, it is a heavenly place.   I could hear a skylark singing his heart out although I could not see him.  But the sky was filled with the swifts; ceaselessly hungry they swoop and soar for flies.  They had to share the sky with a bi-plane which was looping the loop and doing wonderful aerobatic tricks, leaving smoke trails between the clouds.

On the way home I was brought to a halt so many times in farm gateways by the beauty of the Cotswolds.  I was mesmerised by a sloping field full of hares!  I have rarely seen hares in the wild but today there were whole groups of them feeding happily in full view and occasionally jumping for joy.  It was a privilege to watch them and take photos.

I meandered through Compton Abdale so that I could see the ‘crocodile’.  This is a very old stone carved to look like a crocodile which covers a natural spring so the water gushes out of its mouth.  It looked strange today dressed for the jubilee with a flower crown on its head!  There is a tradition of well dressing in England which apparently stretches to springs too!

I could not resist taking a photo of a typical Cotswold stone house complete with roses by the door and wisteria round the gate.

I will post my photos below for you to enjoy.

Field of Rapeseed
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Field of Rapeseed

Rapeseed 18

For those of you who enjoyed the photos of the poppy fields in the Cotswolds I thought I would post a photo I took last month of a Rapeseed field.  There is something new every month in the Cotswolds.  Before the rapeseed there was blossom everywhere from the fruit trees and before that there were the magnolias, snowdrops and daffodils.  Maybe I should do a month by month pictorial journal of Cotswold Flora with a side order of lovely buildings and scenery!  So let’s start with January when we get Hellebores quickly followed by snowdrops, crocuses and aconites.  I took this photo of  wild snowdrops in the woods ………

In February I spotted daffodils at Lindors Country House which is a retreat centre and hotel in the Forest of Dean and at Prinknash Abbey which is my favourite place in the whole world …….

In March  the weather was good and the Magnolias were out early…….

In April the fruit trees were covered in blossom.  The apple blossom is in my garden where I have 2 apple trees and 2 pear trees, 1 quince tree and a cherry tree so I get a good variey of blossom! ………

  In May the rapeseed fields brightened up the fields high up in the Cotswolds………..

Of course the most beautiful time in the Cotswolds is lambing time.  Here are some very happy sheep at hailes Abbey …..

 

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Poppy time in the Cotswolds

Cotswold Countryside,

Golden harvest, honeyed stone

Punctured by poppies

It is hard to  describe the beauty of the Cotswolds in June or the joy I feel when I suddenly come across stray poppies in the hedgerow, clusters by the roadside or profusions swamping a field of corn.   But a picture paints a thousand words so enjoy my photos!

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Journaling my Journey number 2

Journaling my Journey

Some years ago when I was feeling very low, my daughter sent me a copy of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.  I started writing ‘morning pages’ as Julia suggested.  It was just 3 pages of stream of consciousness words, whatever came into my head.  Sometimes, if words just would not come, I drew sketches.

I used to get up very early in the morning anyway as I was finding it difficult to sleep.  So before I listened to the radio, read the paper, did Sudoku, filled in a crossword, switched on my computer, or had any distraction or outside input I would write my morning pages.  I did this religiously (interesting word) every day for the weeks and months that followed.  I did not read the pages back and I did not show them to anyone.  In fact if I was really down I would wrap the pages round with Sellotape and hide them in a cupboard, figuratively locking away the pain that was revealing itself on the pages.

The Artist’s Way is of course a 12 week programme for creative discovery and/or recovery.  However, apart from the urge to draw little sketches alongside my pages I did not discover any hidden artistic talent during those 12 weeks!  Nevertheless, I continued writing my morning pages and taking myself off on ‘artist’s dates’ for another couple of years, and my depression lifted.

In Autumn 2011 I saw an advert for a course at the Isbourne Foundation on “The Artists’s Way”.  Knowing how much I had enjoyed following the book, I was intrigued and inspired to sign up, which I did.  There I met tutor Dr Lesley O’Neill and joined a small group of women whom I immediately felt connected to.  So I read the book again and inspired and encouraged by Lesley and the group, I discovered to my joy that I did have some creative talents.  Poetry popped up, Haiku hurtled out. I dabbled in drawing, played with Plasticene, discovered Zentangles, started writing stories, and carried my camera everywhere I went.  Now, I wrap my pages in pretty ribbon, not Sellotape, and I save them in a beautiful turquoise box with doves all over it.  I now live the Artist’s Way.  I am part of a small local community of creative and inspiring women and my life is transformed.  With them I am free to be myself and express myself, with no pretensions, no explanations and no alibis required.  There are never enough hours in the day for all I want to do.  I have several writing projects on the go including newsletters, travelogues, competition entries, children’s stories, my blog, and of course my morning pages.  But now I realise that they too are transformed into Journal entries.  I realised this after seeing a recommendation for the book “Life’s Companion, Journal Writing as Spiritual Practice” by Christina Baldwin on the New Hampshire Writer’s Group blog www.nhwn.wordpress.com that I follow .  I bought the book and look forward to continuing my journey of discovery ~ discovering myself!

Rapeseed field ripening in the Cotswolds

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Hearts under the hammer

There are some things that are just too sad to write stories about and so I write Haiku.

Scored in syllables

Sharp shards of sorrow spill out

solaced by sharing.

One of these is the auction of of my parents’ possessions, relics of my past.  The setting was ironic ~ an old school, and the weather was in tune with my feelings ~ the heavens hurling their hurt on the deserted playground.

 The timing could not have been worse, viewing on what would have been my father’s 89th birthday.  There is no happy ending here, a family stripped of its history under a hammer, and the grieving just goes deeper.

Some of the antique dolls mum lovingly collected over the years

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April 23rd 1964 ~ 400th Anniversary of the birth of William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare was born on April 23rd 1564 and died on 23rd April 1616.  1964 was the 400th anniversary of his birth and I was living in Stratford on Avon, which was certainly the most exciting place to be at that time for a theatre mad teenager.

The highlight of my acting career had been the part of Mole in Toad of Toad Hall at St Gabriel’s Convent in Carlisle.  Cardinal Heenan was the honoured guest in the audience.  My part was memorable as it involved a tea party at Toad Hall.  We had real cakes and biscuits.   I had never seen those pink and white marshmallows with a biscuit base and coconut all over the top.  I became so engrossed in examining and eating them that I forgot where I was and had to be prompted to continue my lines.  “Oh, you silly ass, Mole”, as rat would say.  But I think I got away with it.  The Cardinal singled me out for praise afterwards, impressed by the realism I portrayed!

I moved to Stratford from the north of England in 1960, the same year that Peter Hall founded the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) and became Artistic Director at the theatre.  Sadly the two events were not connected but our paths crossed over the next few years.  At that time he was married to Leslie Caron and they lived on the Warwick Road near St Gregory’s Church.   I was a teenager at the local girls’ grammar school, Shottery Manor, passionate about literature and especially Shakespeare.

In those days you could pay 4 shillings (20p) to stand at the back of the theatre in Stratford and watch the plays.  From 1960 to 64 when I left school I think I saw every production, often going to the matinee and the evening performances.  My all time favourite was King Lear in 1962 which I have never forgotten.  Paul Schofield played Lear and a young and gorgeous Diana Rigg played Cordelia.

In 1964 when I was doing my A Levels I watched the full history cycle; Richard 11, Henry 1V part 1 and 2, Edward 1V and Richard 111.  I became familiar with actors such as Roy Dotrice, Peggy Ashcroft, a very young John Hurt, and my hero David Warner.  All the girls at school had a crush on him as he was so 60’s with his gaunt look and flowing scarf.  We would hang out at the Dirty Duck pub by the river Avon, barefoot and with flowers in our hair, hoping the actors would pop in after the show, which they often did.  I was such a regular at theatre events that I somehow got to know Peter Hall and Leslie Caron.  I was asked to babysit once for the child of actor Tom Bell and his first wife when they were visiting the Halls.  Tom Bell had become very famous for his part in The L Shaped Room in which he played opposite Leslie Caron.  He and his wife were lovely and I was so sad to see that he died some time ago after a long and magnificent career.

1964 also saw the opening of the Shakespeare Centre where visitors could study every aspect of Shakespeare’s work.  I was privileged to work there part time while at school and full time in the summer after I left.  I loved it.  For the centenary year there was a special exhibition with all the sights and sounds and smells of Shakespearean Stratford.  As I remember it the plays were performed on a loop and the visitors could wander in and sit down to listen for as long as they wanted.  To me it was heaven.  I don’t think any exhibition since has bettered that experience for me.

Every year in Stratford there are celebrations for Shakespeare’s birthday but 1964 was spectacular.  There were flagpoles put up in the centre of the streets leading from the theatre to the Holy Trinity Church where the bard is buried.  Representatives from 115 countries of the world came to unfurl their flag at 11am.  This was followed by a procession of dignitaries, townspeople and pupils from the two Grammar Schools, King Edward V1 school for boys, which Shakespeare himself had attended, and Shottery Manor, the school for girls.  I was in that procession and will never forget it.  After the church service and laying of wreaths at the tomb in the presence of Prince Philip, there was a festival on the Bancroft Gardens.  Primary school children danced around maypoles and there was all the fun of the fair.  It was a glorious day.

I still consider King Lear to be the greatest play ever written, and William Shakespeare to be the greatest playwright.   It is almost 449 years  since he was born and the celebrations will  take place this weekend in Stratford.  But they could never match those of 1964.

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/shakespeares-400th-anniversary-1

Shakespeare’s 400th Anniversary

Photos show a portrait of William Shakespeare, A photograph of my old school Shottery Manor, The parade through the town on 23rd April 1964 and a view of Bridge Street from the roundabout at the top.

July 1964 Click this link to show a class photo of our school leaving day,

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Haiku

As it is National Poetry Month I thought I would write a Haiku.  Traditionally the Haiku has 17 syllables divided into 3 parts, the first with 5 syllables, the second with 7 syllables and the last with 5 syllables.  The Japanese Haiku is written in one long line whereas the English Haiku is written in 3 lines.   Generally the Haiku is written about nature or the seasons and the words paint the picture in the reader’s mind.  The Haiku should appeal to the senses and encourage the reader to meditate on the topic.  Mine captures the moment the fishing ends ………..

Sun sets, fishing stops

Herons hover overhead

Fish glide into reeds

 

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Gone Fishing

Under a fishing umbrella by the side of a lake in the pouring rain with husband and grandchildren, heaven happens.  There is nothing quite so exciting as being at the mercy of the elements but safe!  It appeals to our most basic human need for shelter and protection.  All our needs are met.  We are together, warm and dry and we have a picnic.  We are relaxed and at peace.  There is nothing we must do but enjoy ourselves.  It is a precious gift ~ time to be.  Grandchildren learn how to fish.  They watch the fluorescent tip of the float marking the place where the line enters the water.  The bait of sweetcorn gently drifts in the depths as we throw more corn in to attract the fish.  And it does.   The float waggles then dips down ~ a bite!    Ben gets the landing net ready and Rosie slides the unhooking mat into place.  The mat is clean and padded to protect the fish from injury or infection.  Gerry reels it in and Ben slips the net into the water and under the fish, gently lifting it clear of the water.    It’s heavy, maybe 8lbs.  A beautiful mirror carp.  It has a golden belly and silver scales along each side of the backbone.  The hook slips easily out of its mouth with the help of tiny forceps.  The children take a photograph of this beautiful creature then it is placed gently back in the net and returned to the lake.  We don’t throw the fish back like the match fishermen.  We let it rest in the net for a few minutes then tilt the net so it can swim out safely, unharmed.

The rain stops, ducks settle on the bank.  The sun comes out to end the day on a glorious note.   The match fishermen leave, but we stay to watch the sun go down.  The sky glows golden and the lake glitters.  Flies abound and the fish leap up to catch them.  Bats swirl around silently.  Then huge wings darken the sky as three herons appear over the tree tops.  They dominate the lake as they swoop down and help themselves to a fish supper.

It is an amazing sight and all we can do is watch in awe, then write Haiku about it!

Sun sets, fishing stops

Herons hover overhead

Fish glide into reeds

Grandad teaching Ben to fish, Rosie practising with a stick!

He’s got it!

Heron waiting for a fish supper

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A Globe of Gold

The weather is so beautiful and this Spring is so exquisite that I just have to quote Thomas Traherne  the 17th century Poet & Mystic

“Heaven! is not that an Endless Sphere
Where all thy Treasures and thy Joys appear?
If that be Heaven it is Evrywhere
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Heaven surely is a State and not a Place
To be in Heaven’s to be full of Grace
Heaven is wherever we see God’s face.”

Taking a walk by a lake today all I could hear was the birds.  I felt the warm sun on my face and the soft breeze blowing through the trees was so welcome.  A confused woodpecker was pecking at a flagpole on top of the old manor house and the ducks were swimming purposefully to distract me from their nests.   Just metres away in one direction was the new ASDA superstore and in the other was the litter strewn A40.  But for 10 minutes I was in a sacred space and I could see God’s face.

Gardens of Lindor House

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Mothering Sunday

Missing you Mum on Mother’s Day
Just five months ago we sat in the garden on a sunny autumn Thursday, my mother and I.  We saw a hummingbird hawkmoth, a rare visitor to the UK.  Like a large bee crossed with a moth, it hovered over the flowers like a hummingbird.   We were at the The Owlpen, mum’s care home, enjoying the last warm days of the year.  Sitting with us were Diana, Phyllis, Agnes and a lovely Welsh lady who didn’t speak at all.   Agnes spotted a plane with four wings flying round and round in circles.  A training flight we thought or maybe a pleasure flight.  No-one else noticed it.  Diana was earnestly knitting hats for merchant seamen.  She has made hundreds over the years from wool that people bring her.  She says it keeps her mind alert and her hands busy.  She doesn’t need a pattern now, she knows the stitches so well, but she has to concentrate on counting the rows.   Phyllis is a large lady with sparkly eyes, very little hair, and sorely swollen legs.  She has difficulty walking and forgets where she has put her stick.  She loves to chat about her grandchildren and to hear about other people’s.  Agnes is mum’s best friend at the Owlpen.  She is a lovely cultured lady who reads the Times from cover to cover every day to ‘keep abreast of the news’. Agnes enjoys good conversation but gets cross with herself when she can’t remember the words she wants to say.
Mum’s eyes do not sparkle today.  They look milky and dull like an aged pet.  She is not joining in the conversation and does not appear to be enjoying the lovely day.  It worries me that she seems so quiet and a bit confused.  I fear she is fading in mind and body so I ask the nurse to make an appointment for the doctor to visit.  
On Monday I arrive early to be there when the doctor comes.  He is young, gentle and kind and asks mum lots of questions.  She is overawed by him and doesn’t want to be a nuisance so she says she is fine.  I gently coax the symptoms out of her.  Didn’t you have a pain in your tummy mum?  “Yes, a little bit”.  Doesn’t it hurt your back when you are moved mum?  “Yes, a little bit”.  Haven’t you gone off your food because it makes you sick mum?  “Yes, a little bit”.  Bless her, it breaks my heart to see how dependent and deferential she has become.  Where is the proud, strong, creative lady?  What happened to the northern matriarch who watched over the whole extended family for the last sixty plus years?
The doctor says he won’t distress her further as she seems a bit down.  So I stay for the whole day.  We read the book of Old Gateshead and go down ‘memory lane’.  We have coffee and share a bit of cake.  At lunchtime I sit with her and she manages to eat a whole bowl of soup.  She is so animated now that we decide to have a girlie afternoon.  Fortunately I brought my manicure set and some nail varnish.  I cut her nails and massage her hands with Wild Rose Beauty Balm from Neal’s Yard.  Then I buff the nails to smooth them and paint them Midnight Bronze.  By the time I leave she looks relaxed and radiant, and the room is filled with the smell of roses.  I have never been happier in my life and I will treasure the memory of that day forever.  My mum died before the week was out. 
Next Sunday is Mothering Sunday and the pink roses she loved will go on her grave. 
I would give the world to be able to buy her a card, take her for a drive, or make her a special lunch.
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Yew No. 40 ~ Painswick Churchyard

Yew No. 40
Life has formed you, twisted you,
Smoothed you, soothed you
Jagged, dark, and fragile you stand.
Where is your soul?
In the branches you gave life to,
The gnarled core split open to the world,
Or the smooth, worn bark that covers your pain.
You have lived, three hundred years and more
You have grown and changed.
You are beautiful still.
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Leap Day 2012

What did you do on Leap Day?
I joined my first “Health Walk” and had a great time.
The walk started at 2pm in the Main Reception area of Park Campus, University of Gloucester.
I drove there and paid for parking (£1 a day!) in the UoG carpark.
Once there it was easy to spot the walk leaders as they were wearing bright yellow tabards.
There was a good crowd of walkers gathered, some old hands and some new like me. After a quick chat and a pause to fill in essential forms to comply with Health and Safety rules we were off! The campus grounds themselves were absolutely beautiful in the spring sunshine. There were snowdrops and primroses out in abundance; squirrels chasing up spectacular trees, and ducks preening by the lake. I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera. But there was no time to stop as the advanced walkers were already out of sight! The walkers drifted naturally into four groups according to speed, but the groups were very fluid. People chatted and mixed with absolute ease. I was fortunate in finding three members of our local WI on the walk who I already knew, but I really would have felt very comfortable on my own as everyone was so welcoming.
The walkers varied in ages. I guessed that the oldest was about 80 but later I discovered she was 91!
The walk was a revelation to me. I have lived in Cheltenham since the 60s and I am ashamed to say I have never seen some of the lanes we walked along. The leaders avoided the main roads and took us across Shurdington Road passing the beautiful home of Zara Tindall. In no time at all we were  alongside market gardens and little farmsteads. I saw sheep with spotless lambs, a rare breed pig, a flock of geese, and dozens of happy hens as free range as they get. The only sounds I could hear were birds singing and lambs bleating.
The walk was 3.5 miles and took about 50 minutes before we all arrived back at UoG. There we all gathered in the refectory for a very welcome cup of tea. It was a good opportunity to get to know the other walkers better and I soon felt as if I had known them for years.
There are organised “Health Walks” every weekday, all different and all completely free to join. I will definitely be turning up for some of these. I can’t imagine a more enjoyable way to get healthy. I will also meet lovely people and see hidden gems in my own town that I have never seen before.
Leaflets with details of all the walks are available online at www.whi.org.uk
I went back on St David’s Day and took my camera!  Here are some of the pics…enjoy!

Basking in sunshine on 29th 2012

Lake at the Park

The essence of Spring

Sowdrops, sign of Spring

The lake at University of Gloucestershire, Park Campus

Minutes away from the main Shurdington Road, an alternative lifestyle