The Little Hill and the Moon

This image makes me feel a tad wistful, as somehow my longer walks along the high wooded path above the other side of Tweed River seem wanderings of the past. But it is early in the year, and I am gradually trying to sort out the workings of my mind and the workings of my cupboards. Maybe these things are connected. The cupboards, then the mind, maybe. The little hill has a crown of trees, which I have not explored. This side of the river is England, where there is not the right to roam. One notices the notices. Standing in the little path and looking back across the river is Lennel House, where Beatrix Potter used to stay. The pandemic has done something strange to us all, I think; but I shall be back, Little Hill, in the light of day.

The Moon and the River

Beyond the Coldstream Bridge, the water curls up over the weir. It is dark outside this morning, our postman told me that head office had turned off the heating where they work, and it was freezing. The post is apparently running at a loss, but the shareholders are being paid handsomely. This has nothing to do with the picture, but everything to do with this country. This benighted, beknighted country….how can a few conscienceless high-living people create such chaos. I need to get out walking again, it has become a habit not an exploration. But getting back to Facebook is a start, I feel as if I am communicating with the outside world.

Moon over Tweed River

The turning of the year – I looked through January images and this was one that combined a sombreness with some streaks of light reflected from the moon, and lights on Coldstream Bridge, which is the bridge between Scotland and England. The breach between Scotland and England seems further away than at the beginning of last year. Soon I will be out and about again, I hope; and back to some kind of crazy scribbling.. May I wish every friend, and also foe if there are any out there, a Happy New Year. One can hope.