Six years ago, Fenton made his name in Richmond Park. Please click on the red link.
The poster below is advertising our Christmas show opening on November 30th as Penryn’s Christmas lights are switched on.I won’t be able to be there as Redruth’s lights are also being switched on that evening and I am booked at the Christmas Craft Market as well as singing carols after the lights parade!
I just caught this evening’s sunset over Four Lanes.
We drew the curtains to find a beautiful rainbow this morning. The house across the street must be full of the crock of gold as the rainbow ends in their chimney. It wasn’t until I put the photo on the computer that I saw the one red leaf left on the Copper Beech next door.
Walking through Penryn this morning in driving rain, I had to stop with the camera under the umbrella to take this photo of a very attractive front door.
A poem about Autumn for you, one that was in a poetry book I had as a child, about nine years old, another that I liked to make up a tune for so that I could sing it to myself. Certainly today we have had ‘great gales incessant’ and the ‘golden leaves’ have been scattered far and wide.
Autumn by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven’s o’erhanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!
The rains have been incessant over much of the country and my heart goes out to all those who are flooded out of their homes around Doncaster where we used to live, in the villages of Fishlake and Bentley, Sykehouse and Arksey and now we hear in many more areas across the Midlands.
We were rescued by a lovely AA man today, from our own drive!
We were booked to go to Falmouth for a show tonight and, while we thought we might be unable to go, a lovely, lovely neighbour offered to come and get us afterwards as the last bus would leave before the show had ended.
We have laughed and laughed until we cried!
Despite the wild weather here while we were away there is still a little colour in the garden though one of our Dracaena palms has had the top blown right off!
We chose the route home from London that avoids most motorways and goes past Stone Henge.
The Nearly Home Trees are so loved by all of us as we return to Cornwall from England.
We’ve been away for the last ten days first helping Daughter 3 and family with decorating their new home and re-making curtains to fit the smaller windows. It’s all looking lovely. Their new place is the thatched cottage from 1600 that I mentioned a few days ago. We then spent a few days in London with Daughter No 2 and her family and now we are home again……. My apologies to all who have commented recently – I’ll reply soon. Apologies too to those whose blogs I have not had time to read!
It’s Remembrance Sunday and we went to watch the Parade in which both LiveWires 2 and 3 were taking part. T said it made her feel very important to be in her Cub uniform marching along with everyone.
There are many war poems to choose from. I like the simplicity of this one, Perhaps by Vera Brittain, its honesty and the fact that it applies to the death of anyone dear at any time, not just in wartime. I posted another favourite poem for today here in 2012.
Perhaps, by Vera Brittain
(Dedicated to her fiance Roland Aubrey Leighton, who was killed at the age of 20 by a sniper in 1915, four months after she had accepted his marriage proposal)
Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel once more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of You.
Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.
Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.
Perhaps some day I shall not shrink in pain
To see the passing of the dying year,
And listen to Christmas songs again,
Although You cannot hear.
But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago.