some pics
These pictures are from a couple weeks ago. We went for a great walk to a pub for lunch. When kenny was here I took him to the same pub, and we walked the same paths. It is a great promenade and the pub is sweet. So here are some pictures.
Here we are... and a cow... geez.. that was pretty self explanatory
Nice, nice.
Walking through a field... next to the Thames, much smaller here than in london.
Ah, here we are sitting on a felled tree. A big one. The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote "Binsey Poplars." In it, he was bummed because he used to walk the same walk as we did and would enjoy the trees. Then they cut them down in 1879 and replanted smaller ones (for safety reasons I guess). Ironically enough, this is one of the trees they planted in their place, now also cut down and replaced with young trees:
felled 1879
My aspens dear, whose airy cages quelled,
Quelled or quenched in leaves the leaping sun,
All felled, felled, are all felled;
Of a fresh and following folded rank
Not spared, not one
That dandled a sandalled
Shadow that swam or sank
On meadow and river and wind-wandering weed-winding bank.
O if we but knew what we do
When we delve or hew—
Hack and rack the growing green!
Since country is so tender
To touch, her being só slender,
That, like this sleek and seeing ball
But a prick will make no eye at all,
Where we, even where we mean
To mend her we end her,
When we hew or delve:
After-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve
Strokes of havoc únselve
The sweet especial scene,
Rural scene, a rural scene,
Sweet especial rural scene.
Here we are... and a cow... geez.. that was pretty self explanatory
Nice, nice.
Walking through a field... next to the Thames, much smaller here than in london.
Ah, here we are sitting on a felled tree. A big one. The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote "Binsey Poplars." In it, he was bummed because he used to walk the same walk as we did and would enjoy the trees. Then they cut them down in 1879 and replanted smaller ones (for safety reasons I guess). Ironically enough, this is one of the trees they planted in their place, now also cut down and replaced with young trees:
felled 1879
My aspens dear, whose airy cages quelled,
Quelled or quenched in leaves the leaping sun,
All felled, felled, are all felled;
Of a fresh and following folded rank
Not spared, not one
That dandled a sandalled
Shadow that swam or sank
On meadow and river and wind-wandering weed-winding bank.
O if we but knew what we do
When we delve or hew—
Hack and rack the growing green!
Since country is so tender
To touch, her being só slender,
That, like this sleek and seeing ball
But a prick will make no eye at all,
Where we, even where we mean
To mend her we end her,
When we hew or delve:
After-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve
Strokes of havoc únselve
The sweet especial scene,
Rural scene, a rural scene,
Sweet especial rural scene.