Archives for September 2013
So much to tell you, dear friends. How much I love my tube + bus ride to work, how the gentle lullaby of the rocking carriages calms and soothes me. That morning pocket of time which affords me the luxury of getting just-lost-enough in a book. The low-lying autumn warmth, the yellow leaves decorating the ground, the pleasure in a scarf wrapped around the neck. How my new office is two streets (two streets!) away from Regent’s Park. This weekend – which was how all weekends should be: Earl Grey in the morning light, snuggling on the sofa with my love love love, autumnal walks holding hands, homemade chocolate birthday cake with SPARKLERS, laughter, and a plate of spanakopita (favourite food ever?) shared with the truest of true-blue friends. Also, my mother painted the bathroom a deep, essential, not-quite-blue, not-quite-green sea hue on a whim and I love it. We’re missing my sister but, besides, life is
I hope you are wonderful!
The last true-blue warm evening of the summer was occupied taking Uncle Eddie’s kayak for a spin on the North Sea. After almost an hour’s searching, Ellie and Will located the boat and the three of us trooped down to the water – the two true adventurers in their swimming suits, me in a woolly jumper and scarf. I watched and photographed and soaked in the last of the sunshine, and Ellie and Will (real seafarers) took turns paddling out to sea. Sometimes it’s nice to be the observer, and these photographs – so bright, so blue – remind how fun it was to spend the last sunny night of the season beside the rolling waves, watching my two best friends having a whale of a time.
“Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.” – William Bryant
“Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got.” – Robert Brault
“Character, like a photograph, develops in darkness.” Yousuf Karsh
“Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.” – Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Her sentences were icebergs, with just the tip of her thought coming out of her mouth, and the rest kept up in her head, which I was starting to think was more and more beautiful the longer I looked at her. – Gregory Galloway