Life Cycle

As one blossom fades, another begins its existence.The cherry blossom is dying and the hawthorn is burgeoning. 
Once upon a time in the mists of time when I was but a stripling, I gathered some hawthorn blossom from the Hermitage of Braid to take home to my Mother. I thought it was very pretty and smelled heavenly so I was devastated when she wouldn’t allow it into the house. Apparently superstition had it that it was thought to invite illness and death. That was a salutary lesson in gift bearing.

Apart from a coffee first thing with a Merry Widow and a quick visit from daughter # 3, I have had a day of quiet contemplation- ClassicFM, my crochet hook and yarn.


There are no bodies disporting themselves on the grass in the Meadows today-summer is taking another break.