Colour, then calm

After a bewilderment of colour at the Pre-Raphaelite exhibition at Tate Britain, I gazed at the reflections and glimmers of light on the river

and lapped up the pale roses flowering amongst the fallen leaves in front of the gallery.

Mad Dash

Each Wednesday evening I tutor a GCSE student a short bus ride away. After I have finished tutoring, I catch the bus up the road, hop out at the fish and chip shop, hand over my £1.50, leap out of the shop and onto the next bus, wrapping the chip bag in my scarf and hustling it up against my coat. I urge the bus on as it makes its stately progress; as it arrives at my stop I jump out and start running, head down against the cold, the chip bundle clasped tightly, like a rugby player charging across the pitch. Along the road I go, gasping at the icy air and exertion, while inside my partner stirs the eggs in the measuring jug, warms the butter for the omelettes, steams the spinach leaves. Finally, we unwrap the chips, douse them in vinegar and scatter the salt over them. They have a certain glamour, these chips.

A Reminder

As it gets darker and darker, sometimes we need a reminder of the Italian Riviera in May.

That the skies will be blue again, even on winter days, that the trees will come into leaf and the light will dapple the ground.

Roses and Narcissi

The sharp, sweet scent of the narcissi;

The shabby pink of the roses.
A deep breath at their beauty.

Birds

There are two birds in our flat who look over us. One sits quietly in the bedroom, not unnoticed but very small and still. The other glares garishly by the bathroom mirror.

 

The little bird I found in Cambridge, years ago. Every now and again I pick her up, her cool body held in my palm. The flashy bird comes from London. She makes the calming white of the bathroom glow with her crimson feathers.

I hope the robin returns to the garden this winter. I thought I saw a flash of orange last week.

Walking to Quakers

This morning I felt full of joy as I walked to my Quaker Meeting.
The sky was a bright blue, there was dew still on the grass, the colours of the leaves were glowing in the sunlight.
How wonderful to live in London and yet to be able to walk through fields and woods like these.
How full of riches this city is.
How lucky I am.

Lights

Bustling out of Bond Street:
The crowds, the noise and
fake snow.

The lights on the stores
Across the streets
In the trees.

Music streaming from the shops,
The hurly burly of buyers
flowing and weaving.

Sparkling and glowing.

Ways

Paths, steps, lanes, canals:

"The path, winding like silver, trickles on
...the path that looks
As if it led on to some legendary
Or fancied place where men have wished to go
And stay..."

Edward Thomas, The Path

Resolution

I have resurrected my resolution to relax. After a long and hectic day, I felt like there was only one suitable response:

scones in the bath.

A desire for pink

on a day of new discoveries and friends.

A decision and a dream

In October 2011 I made a decision. I was feeling exhausted, crushed and jaded by my job, which had always been far more than a job in time and energy. So I resigned. And I thought to myself: where do I want to be in January when I don't have to return to work? I knew the answer at once. I wanted to be here:

and to wake up with these views from my window:

and to sip a hasty espresso before studing each morning here:

before taking the afternoon to gaze at the wonder of it all:

and then to return each evening to this:

before finally nodding off to sleep with this haunting my dreams:

And I know how very, very lucky I was that this dream was able to come true. I came back replenished by the beauty and serenity of Venice in January, feeling like I was alive and blossoming again.

I want to say thank you to Alice and the commenters on ...the sight of morning... whose posts and comments I have been reading for a long time now. You make the world a better place.

Sky

I shuffle the table closer to the window so I can see the bright blue November sky while I type. I am so glad there is a blue sky today. October seemed to offer a lot of pale grey skies, though when out in them they often became alive with movement, not the still, flat sheets they had seemed from within. So today here are some skies: Scottish skies in April, Venetian skies in January and today's November sky.

White

Usually, at this time of year I enjoy the russet and rust of autumn leaves. That has been true this year too. But then I had a sudden craving for white: white ranunculus and tulips, a window-box of white cyclamen. And I remembered the first drawing I did in my sketch-book four years ago - these cyclamen were pink in reality, but here they are white.