Enjoy the gallery as we stroll around new streets. Hover over or click on any photo for the caption.
Yesterday was National Poetry Day and I missed it so here, again, is a poem that Brian Bilston once gave me permission to share with you. It seems appropriate still….
We’ve been walking about today and spotting blooms and other stuff, mainly tomatoes, in strangers’ front gardens.
After a delicious breakfast with lovely friends at the Blue Bar in Porthtowan, we had a brief walk on the beach, wary of the looming black clouds which dropped a downpour ten minutes later just as we arrived home.
When we saw Michaelmas Daisies in Portreath this windy afternoon , I remembered seeing in the diary that today is Michaelmas.
On Sunday we took down the finished sweet pea plants and these are the very last of this season’s blooms, still smelling lovely. 
On my way to my pottery class on Saturday, the vibrant red of a Virginia Creeper climbing up a telegraph pole in the car park stood out against the lovely blue sky.
It was a beautiful September morning and we decided to ignore all jobs and go for a stroll along the cliff tops below St Agnes Beacon. It was the right decision, both bracing and unwinding.
Turned off the road and into a National Trust Lane towards the cliff top
Gorse and the sea
Wheal Coates and the paths
Low tide and miles and miles of golden sand. You might spot a few people on the beach.
Last night was the full Harvest Moon.
I made a big moussaka today and will freeze it in portions for almost instant dinners on the nights I don’ t feel like cooking.
Another gloriously pink-becoming-orange-becoming-fiery sunset and all within moments.
A beautiful bunch of Gladioli was brought to our door by a lovely friend who had just heard of my not being on top form. They certainly brightened my day.
Thank you A&P
In town this afternoon, just before this week’s pottery lesson, I spotted some very clever stitching in the shop window of Make A Mends.
Today we learned how to trim our pots, put our initials on the bottom and then practised throwing some more.
It was a beautiful afternoon and after lunch with a very good friend, in the sun at The Buttermarket in Redruth, I walked home along the lanes listening to bird song and noticing all the lovely things on the way.
Lovers’ Lane
Pink flowers, bright green leaves
Dark red leaves
Happy landing for the feather
Tonight’s sunset
These are the first few verses and the last verse of Adrian Mitchell’s brilliant poem, Human Beings. Do look at the whole of it here.Â
HUMAN BEINGS
           look at your hands
your beautiful useful hands
you’re not an ape
you’re not a parrot
you’re not a slow loris
or a smart missile
you’re humannot british
not american
not israeli
not palestinian
you’re humannot catholic
not protestant
not muslim
not hindu
you’re human
………………………….
      look at all that life
         all that beauty
         you’re human
      they are human
      we are human
   let’s try to be human        Âdance!
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