I love looking at water, not so much the sea, although I do enjoy it’s sparkle on bright sunny day’s. It’s the flow of a river or stream that can hold my attention, It’s like your own personal gallery, where the pictures are painted personally for you and only for today, moments, as tomorrow the curator, light; has gathered a new collection. Standing on the banks or as in this case on a walk way bridge with enough room for one person at a time to pass, studying a rivers flow I can get lost in thoughts, dreams, enjoying the marriage of colour that run and bleed into each other, as though an unseen hand of an artist is putting water colour down on some beautiful textured paper. Japanese culture has an entire philosophy for a similar thing called Shinrin Yoku – translated as ‘taking in the forest atmosphere’ or, more metaphorically, as ‘forest bathing’. I’m not sure western culture has such a beautiful name for enjoying the flow of water as river bathing conjures up other thought’s.
These watercolour’s are part of the river Avon in Warwickshire, England.
Our desire to produce healthy food which is good for our families, and the joy you can feel being amongst plants, seems to be making itself out as if it was something new, the modern mans approach to healthy living. I know for a fact it’s been around far longer. I remember reading an article in Vogue magazine back in the 70’s of a family doing just that, growing fresh produce for their restaurant.
I have known and passed by this allotment, a very British thing to have, for as long as I can remember. It sits just at the top of Arthur Street in Kenilworth UK and just before you walk or drive over the railway bridge that my dad used to fire the steam trains that ran up and down the tracks. I would love to have a piece of one just like it, but I live in Australia now so not much chance of that. Hence I have started my very own veggie patch in the garden, not very big but I do live in hope. Now I have a huge learning curve ahead of me, as my wife would attest to the fact my fingers are more to the red spectrum than the green, but I am rather excited about growing my own food.
What can you hear? I can hear bird song along with the hoarse, grating caw of a crow. There’s no cow bellow as they are busy munching away on the rich green Welsh grass, or is it English, I cant tell as I was in border country. I was idly wondering around the small twisty country roads of this beautiful piece of Welsh English landscape, when I happen to pass an opening in the hedgerows that revealed this mesmerizing view. I cannot resist this beautiful light that I have only seen in Europe and the UK, it’s like the suns rays have to penetrate through millions and millions of tiny pearls of moisture invisible to the eye. I think you could indulge in all your passions of wanting to live in the countryside here, standing soaking up the atmosphere. I know I did, even if it was for only a moment.
In June 1266 having turned down the chance to make peace on King Henry’s terms, the rebel supporters of Simon de Montfort prepared to defend Kenilworth Castle. King Henry moves his men to Kenilworth and the siege begins.
I covered the event over the beautiful long weekend of August last year as the 750 Anniversary of the Siege took place.
Apparently this bridge, designed by Scottish engineer John Rennie (1761-1821) and built over the river Avon west of Stoneleigh Abbey, Warwickshire England, is a possible site to the murder of a number workmen around 1812-1815 – within the lifetime of Jane Austen, who was Austen’s relative Chandos, first Lord Leigh of the second creation (1791-1850), a Romantic poet and Whig essayist, he was charged with two of the murders.