…to friends, acquaintances and gentle readers…
from the Kickass Canada Girl and the Imperceptible Immigrant.
Have a wonderful holiday!
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Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee
Whether the summer clothe the general earth with greenness or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch smokes in the sun-thaw
Whether the eve-drops fall, heard only in the trances of the blast
Or if the secret ministry of frost shall hang them up in silent icicles
Quietly shining to the quiet moon.
Frost at Midnight
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Some more images from the far east. We were really rather taken with Hong Kong…
Travel is the most private of pleasures. There is no greater bore than the travel bore. We do not in the least want to hear what he has seen in Hong Kong.
Vita Sackville-West
Mindful of the above I certainly have no intention of boring. Here instead are just a few images from our hectic but most enjoyable wedding trip…
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’
Bob Dylan
It will not have escaped the intrepid reader’s notice that – contrary to my previously stated intent – these posts have not of late included much in the way of updates on impending retirement, emigration to BC and so forth. The reasons for this unnatural reticence arise from what Harold Macmillan – asked what was the greatest obstacle to political achievement – famously called “Events, dear boy, events”. To this point it has not been possible to post on the subject – though I will do so in the near future. Suffice to say that all of our plans now need to be revisited.
Tomorrow Kickass Canada Girl and I fly around the world in opposite directions, meeting in Hong Kong to attend the wedding of some dear friends. The wedding is at the weekend and we are taking the opportunity to grab a little much needed rest and relaxation. I will – no doubt – regale you with photos and posts at the earliest opportunity.
In the meantime here are some more images of autumn.
“…as the slow sea sucked at the shore and then withdrew, leaving the strip of seaweed bare and the shingle churned, the sea birds raced and ran upon the beaches. Then that same impulse to flight seized upon them too. Crying, whistling, calling, they skimmed the placid sea and left the shore. Make haste, make speed, hurry and begone; yet where, and to what purpose? The restless urge of autumn, unsatisfying, sad, had put a spell upon them and they must flock, and wheel, and cry; they must spill themselves of motion before winter came.”
― Daphne du Maurier, The Birds & Other Stories
“Reader, if you seek his monument – look about you”
Inscription on Wren’s tomb in St Paul’s Cathedral
Each year the School – along with its sister school – celebrates its foundation and its Founder, John Colet, at a service in St Paul’s Cathedral – of which he was once Dean. This impressive logistical operation involves bus-sing the entire complement of both schools across London in time for a 2:30pm start. To my knowledge no-one has ever been late for it which – as those familiar with the London traffic will attest – is little short of a miracle.
I have always loved the cathedral and I attend the service each year simply to re-visit the building. This is all the more poignant given its romantic attachment for me and this year – as ever- I took a moment to stand directly under the dome and to lose myself to my thoughts.
Here are some snapshots:
Never mind, I’ll remember you this
I’ll remember you this way
Mr Blue Sky – Jeff Lynne
A startlingly lovely early September weekend with clear blue skies and perfect temperatures. The stunning London Olympic/Paralympic summer reaches its climax – Andy Murray punches his way to the final of the US Open – the nation beats its breast and sheds a tear at the Last Night of the Proms…
The weather is, apparently, also simultaneously divine in Victoria, BC – but sadly sharing such wonders by Skype alone can be no substitute for the real thing.
A touch of melancholy…
The staggeringly beautiful villages of the Vaucluse have been documented by far, far greater photographers than I could ever hope to become, and I do not intend to add my humble efforts to the many gorgeous images than can already be found on the InterWebNet. I will simply, therefore, post a few snaps taken over the last week or so that I quite like, in the hope that the gentle reader may also obtain some pleasure therefrom.
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