A Silver Birch tree and a man called Ernest

Very quiet on our lane today, probably because the weather has been pretty naff since Friday.  We even had hailstone at one point.

I wonder if people are having good days and bad days mood wise during these strange days ?  Yesterday going for petrol, for the first time in weeks, threw me.  Even though I had gloves on which I disposed of and washed my hands it left me very jittery and even the pleasure of visiting our favourite farm shop didn’t settle me.

Anyway back to today Sunday which was much better.  There was a lot to see on my walk.  My favourite Silver Birch tree.  I love the beauty of it,  the colour and how the leaves shimmer.  I use the tree as a meditation.  It’s roots firmly in the ground, it’s strong body is flexible and stretches and bends, looking upto the sky.  

The honeysuckle is coming through as the rhododendrons start to fade and the foxgloves are popping up everywhere.

Who needs a garden when all of this is on the track across from my house.

The highlight of my Sunday was stopping to chat to a lovely chap on the road that runs along the bottom of our lane.

Ernest, I think I am a little in love with this 90 year old chirpy character.  His wife and son died last year and he has a daughter who brings his shopping.  He told me I didn’t look 64 and I told him he didn’t look 90 and a friendship began. At the end of our conversation  I said I’ll come and have a cuppa with you when we are allowed and he said I’d be welcome anytime.

For now though I’m going to write him a letter and enclose some pictures of our garden gate displays and one of

me and Philip when we looked less like hillbillies.

I hope the weekend has been kind to you and you stay safe.  For us we still think it’s to early to go off gallivanting anywhere, so we will be sticking to shopping on our little open markets and popping down to Mum’s.

Lynn

xxx