Tuesday, 16 November 2010
An Ordinary Tuesday.
Tuesday morning is always the 'Tesco run' - I know, boring old supermarket and all that, but it is necessary to stock up for the week - and as I have told you before, the journey from the farm to Tesco is a lovely one as it goes on a high road overlooking the Vale of York. This morning it was especially beautiful as the sun was shining low in the sky and there was mist. I found it so beautiful that I pulled into a layby and penned a short poem. Not brilliant by any means but it was spontaneous so I will share it with you:-
The Vale of York has
strips of mist
that mark the river's run.
And in between
the etched bare trees
shine darkly in the sun.
I suppose it lets you know what the view was like.
After Tesco I usually go to my friend, G's, for coffee. This morning we had a good chat for an hour on all things creative - discussing artists and embroiderers we both admire, looking at techniques, chatting about materials etc. I came away fired with enthusiasm to do some work on my book when I had time.
After lunch Tess and I decided to walk to Forty Acre wood. We left home in brilliant, warm sunshine but before we had gone more than two or three hundred yards a mist began to creep in. I took a photograph (above) across a field of sheep - just a tiny mist at first, but by the time we returned home it was thick fog all the way and freezing too, so that the fog wrapped around us like an icy blanket. Not nice at all - called for a hot cup of coffee on our return.
If you look right centre in the photograph you will see the remains of a lovely alder tree which was brought down earlier in the year in a fierce gale - I don't know what it is about trees that makes us so sympathetic to them, but somehow looking at that fallen tree one feels for its demise.
Now, as I write, night is falling and the fog is thicker than ever and freezing too. Any minute now the log burning stove will burst into life and hopefully a warm glow will settle on the farmhouse. Have a nice evening and keep warm.
After tea I shall have a go at the next page of my book.