Blue remembered hills

Here we are, on our way to the Council recycling centre yet again. Let's just say that we're on first name terms with the staff there. Mrs Oons declares I take her to the most exciting places. But we do always travel the pretty way, where you go round a random corner and get views like this. Rowans, lollipop trees and blue hills.

Anyway, of course I remember them. We were there two days ago. But they are blue, aren't they, even if they aren't in Shropshire? There had been dense fog, now almost cleared, but the light was still odd.

For anyone who doesn't get the reference, here's the poem

Blue Remembered Hills
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

A.E. Housman