...a peaceful autumn afternoon... more peaceful than summer... or even spring... the air is cool and still... weak sunshine illuminates yellowing trees and warms faces and hands... leaves float gently onto the grass, recently mown... a woman in a blue hat (carrying winter clothes on bent arms) walks swiftly across the meadow... two black dogs explore smells beneath an oak tree whose branches reach down to the ground... i can feel the wound of a minor skin operation (yesterday) healing in this air (so fresh, so mild, so warm) as the leaves survive or expire in the last days of their season.....
random point 5, the highest, above the Vale of Health...
...city towers are almost invisible in the autumn mist... pale grey and blue and pink in the fading light of the setting sun... a good half of English poetry is embedded in such a scene and some of its writers* lived or wrote in this village.. and now a flight of about 10 UFBs (unidentified flying birds) disappears over the horizon...
*for instance Byron and Shelley, Leigh Hunt, DH and Frieda Lawrence, Rabindranath Tagore (and about a dozen others) are mentioned at(these pages are designed to be read with the window set to two-thirds of the screen width)
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© 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007 john chris jonesIf you wish to reproduce any of this text commercially please send a copyright permission request to jcj 'at' publicwriting.net (replace 'at' and spaces by the @ sign)
