Home Again

Orchard grass

I am happy to be home again, even if only for a few weeks. I made Coral safe on a buoy in Schull, arranged by the ever-helpful Simon at Schull Watersports, drove to London with my son Ben and grandchildren and took the train down to Bath.

Being on land was odd to begin with. At first, I stumbled around a bit. Everything is both much bigger (our kitchen is more than twice the size of Coral’s cabin) yet the context is smaller (houses, walls, and trees interrupt the line of sight compared with the great spaces of the ocean).  But as the train took me into the West Country, with its luscious greenness decorated with the lacy white May and cowparsley and studded with sparkling yellow buttercups, I had a strong feeling of coming home.

Elizabeth met me at the station and was pleased, as I knew she would be, that I had shaved off my sailing beard. We had, of course, much to talk about.

I have missed the best of the blossom on our new fruit trees, but am back in time to see the early flowering of the meadow grass we planted last year in the Orchard. When I left it was still a bit brown and scrubby after the winter. Now it is up to eighteen inches tall, with lovely grasses and daisies, Tom Thumb, poppies and yellow rattle and lots more beginning to come into flower. The trees we planted last spring are all doing well, and I enjoy myself training the new shoots on the maidens and older espalier trees along their wires.

Every morning I sit at my computer and work my notes and memories into words. Can I catch and convey the sense of the wildness and the homeliness of Ireland? We will see.

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Comments

  1. Nice one!!

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