A New Day

The dawn of a new day

This was one of those rare days after a period of cold, wet weather.  I woke to a world bathed in glorious golden light. The sky faded from a deep rich violet through mauve to peach and then a brilliant gold as the sun rose above the horizon. It is a joy to be alive on a day like this.

The morning clouds slowly clear
As the sun rose the clouds burnt off and gradually the sky cleared to a brilliant blue. It looks set to be a wonderful day. 

The Curious Passenger

The double-decker bus is a delight to the curious suburban passenger.  It provides them with an elevated viewpoint that raises them above the height of all but the tallest hedge or fence, with a window onto the usually private domains of the residents.

Such buses are rare on the route I travel each Friday morning on my way to and from the Latin Study Group that I belong to.  This lunchtime on my way home, I was privileged to board one of these exotic beasts and mounted the stairs to sit in splendid isolation enjoying this unexpected treat, a pleasant change from the normal, unedifying journey past high walls, fences and hedges. 

On this journey I was privy to a plethora of the flights of fancy of latent Inigo Jones and Capability Brown wannabes, with intriguing glimpses of gazebos, statuary, arbours and ponds.  Even in small back gardens, the residents had some intriguing displays of ingenuity. 

These little havens are the unseen pride and joy of their owners.  Many of them provide welcome habitats for our wild creatures.  In my own garden we have had foxes and badgers along with myriad birds attracted by the food put out for them by my nature-loving spouse. 

This was taken outside the kitchen window where he was foraging among the seed dropped from the feeding stations in a rowan tree.

Here he was a few days later hunting snails among the vegetables in a raised bed.  He must be quite light as he is walking along the top of a clipped box hedge.

We surprised this boyo outside the kitchen window after returning from a night out with friends.  There must have been rich pickings, as he stayed around for quite some time, turning up at about the same time each evening.

The journey home today reminded me of the rich diversity that lies hidden behind the front hedges and fences of our urban streets.

May all your journeys lead you to the promised land.

Starry, Starry Night

This is an animated version of a watercolour painting I did just before Christmas as a tribute to Van Gogh's painting of the same name.

Annie

It was a sad morning for me. I had to attend the funeral of an old college friend who had been suffering for some time with Altziemers. We  were members of a small group of mature students realising our ambitions to become teachers. 

 As mothers of young families, we helped each other through the difficulties of juggling home and college commitments. We made sure that anyone who missed a lecture got plenty of study notes from those who were there. We enjoyed many social outings and field trips together, keeping in touch after we graduated and realised our dreams of becoming teachers. Annie was especially gifted in teaching less able children and excelled in Special Education. 

 Now in retirement, we were meeting more regularly. Unfortunately, Annie had not been able to join us for some time because of her condition. We had gradually lost our wonderful friend over the last couple of years, difficult for us, but even more so for her family. She had deteriorated over the past few weeks and passed away peacefully in her sleep last Friday. 

 Annie was a lively, caring person, very active in her local Presbyterian church. She was no stranger to tragedy, having lost her beloved husband, Brian, in the Chinook Helicopter disaster in 1994. Brian was just about to retired from the RUC and they had been looking forward to spending some quality time together. Annie pulled herself through that and devoted herself to her family, friends and pupils. She will be very sadly missed. 

 Annie 

 Friends are hard to come by, 

 especially those, who care. 

You may not see them often but, 

you know that they are there. 

 We just lost a good one. 

 Our father called her home. 

 While we see her through a veil of tears,

 in Paradise she will roam. 

 She is flying with the angels 

 hand in hand with her true love. 

 Her troubled heart at peace, at last, 

 in God's mansion, up above. 

 In Memory of 

Annie Joyce Fitzsimons 

1938 - 2014

 (C) 2014 Terri Richardson