Late for work on Monday having dealt with the fog and freezing conditions but just had to pause and photograph these trees within the campus.

This is part of a park land, in Eltham South London, surrounding a Victorian mansion built by Colonel North who made his fortune from Chilean nitrates.

The cold air just hung above the ground. Little sign of the dog walkers who congregate in the park and so,all in all, a moment of stillness and beauty in a suburb not renowned for such.  

The Winter Garden or Hot House at Avery Hill is fairly decrepit now but must have been quite wonderful at the turn of the century.I hope to take some shots soon.

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing.
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.

Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history.

Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietas?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but easing nothing. 

Winter Trees    Sylvia Plath.

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