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Tag Archives: London Underground

The River Tamar, Sheep and a Busker

1   The train journey from Cornwall to London is always a pleasure – lots of beautiful countryside to enjoy and lots of reading time. There seemed to be a strong tide and the boats were all lined up on the River Tamar.

Boats lined up on The River Tamar

2   The train took an unusual route today and I spotted these sheep on a hill and just managed to get this photo through the rain streaked window. Don’t you just love them? I’m tempted to try this at home!

Sheep mural

3   I love the London Underground where there are so many amazing musicians busking but so many people just walk by. The music really lifts my spirits in the bustle and crush of the Underground.

 
 

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Smells of Senegal, London Underground and Khalil Gibran on Children

1  Such a lovely thing – when I use my hairdryer, it blows out the beautiful incensey smell that was in our apartment in Pikine in Senegal bringing back all those lovely memories.

2  We’ve just bought a new shower curtain with the Tube map on it! Click on it to make it big enough to read.

London Underground Map on our new shower curtain

3  I’ve just come back from the run-through of tomorrow’s Baby Naming Ceremony, firstly a beautiful drive down to Potager Garden though lanes lined by ancient  trees and then the words of the Ceremony which contain the following from Kahlil Gibran, words that Mr S and I love and the philosophy which we tried to keep in mind while bringing up our own four children:

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.


You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.”

 

 
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Posted by on April 20, 2012 in books, home, poetry, Senegal, senses, travel

 

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