The Waves*

I'm glad we're going under the sea, by train through the Channel tunnel, rather than over it when we go home tomorrow, as it's rough today. The cabbage tree in the foreground is a little link with home as there are plenty of them in the Midi, and also in New Zealand - see cabbagetree's journal.

* The Waves is one of Virginia Woolf's more experimental novels and I've been thinking about her a lot since I've been here. Years ago, in another (academic) life, I spent a lot of time reading her work and writing about it. The other day on the way back from Lewes we made a detour through Rodmell and saw the outside of her last house, from where she walked to the river to drown herself. The house was closed, but I didn't mind because I've been inside before.