a wander

December 1, 2010

a wander around  . . .

 . .  thick snow for us down here, about 4″  and enough to send the gulls back up to the rooftops.

Wandering up Quarry Hill by the gardens – lovely mature holm oaks make a frame to the composition. Thinking about the Burtons, who kick started this town, I turned up West Hill Road to look again at the pyramid, a mausoleum for members of the family. 

 

James is supposedly buried here in this small family graveyard. The inscription on the  pyramid ‘May Jackasses sit on your Father’s Grave’ was a family notion on how to evade the Eastern curse. The rather ugly church is post war as the original built by James Burton was doodlebugged.

Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.

Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence, —
Ah, what sagacity perished here!

Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow   Emily Dickinson

Decimus receives an acknowledgement as the tenth son and architect of the town but he was buried elsewhere.

A light hedge of hippophae makes a boundary between the grave yard and the cliff edge. Hippophae is salt tolerant, fairly evergreen and spiny. At  St John Bread + Wine, a tart is served topped with a jelly made from the berries. Most delicious! They use a forager for produce that grows in the wild. 

 

Making the loop back home and looking at the rear view of Undercliff Terrace, a Decimus creation, across Len‘s collection of exotica.

Then down the long flight of steps to the front of the terrace. An invitation to sit. But others see this as an invitation to take the plants – naughty!

4 Responses to “a wander”

  1. Cloudier Says:

    Probably the strong and bolshy gulls swiping stuff.


  2. Beautiful, timeless photographs Julia. I love that muted palette. Unusual to see snow on a beach!

    The first Christmas that Peter and I spent at Aberporth, I speculated on whether the cottage pipes might freeze. “Oh no…” said Peter, “… it’ll never freeze this close to the sea!” The following day we awoke to six inches of snow, and our Christmas morning walk was on the snow-bound beach. The pipes, of course, froze!

    • julia fogg Says:

      It lovely Clive, in its unexpectedness! More this morning with gutters down due to the weight of the snow. Your pix look as a snowy landscape should – delicious.


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