Sunday, 26 May 2019

Sign of hope

With reference to the previous 'snowy' blog, I discovered, amongst my drafts, the following text and images, written well over a year ago, after a visit to Egglestone Hall  Gardens and thought it was a pity to waste it...

Just before the snow arrived last week, I paid my annual visit to the tiny abandoned churchyard in the grounds of the wonderful Egglestone Hall Gardens to view the snowdrops. There are other places nearby that also have wonderful snowdrops but Egglestone Hall's churchyard is somewhere extra special  with its own particular ambience.

Abandoned churchyard at Egglestone Hall

It always feels as if there's a story there just waiting to be told. (Wendy please note!)

One almost expects to see a figure rise up from behind one of the ancient gravestones - probably a cliched lady in a long grey dress and bonnet  (must stop reading the Brontes). She'd be clutching a tiny posy of snowdrops, just picked from one of the graves...

Snowdrops nestling in the shelter of a grave

Blossoms and dewdrops at the bent spray's edge

Hark, where my blossom'd pear tree in the hedge
Leans to the fields and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops at the bent spray's edge

Robert Browning wrote nostalgically in his Home thoughts from abroad about the month of May.
I was reminded of the poem when, after a particularly windy morning, the large, elderly pear tree
opposite the kitchen window had 'snowed' all along the path leading to Pablo's Garden.

It was a magical sight on a sunny May morning.