Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Above Mangiennes.

Whenever we return from the Duchy of Luxembourg and reach this point above the village of Mangiennes, we look at the distant hills and think of them as “the hills of home”.  Beyond them lies the town where we live.

Rather hazy yesterday…

















This stopping point is beside a strange-looking building that we haven’t yet discovered what it is or what it was; perhaps a war-time building which has been adapted...but for what?  We really must make some enquiries…





On the bank at the side of the building, a group of cheery flowers…



Thursday, 15 September 2016

after…1.

after…

my heart is heavy, weighed down with grief
and poetry has sunk like a stone in my soul
thoughts are jumbled, unclear
my footsteps falter as I try to find the path
which will lead me out of this dark place
as, with clouded eyes, I splash through my tears


Sheridan
07.02.68. - 20.08.16.

Sunday, 11 September 2016

Friends

I posted this on Facebook this morning...

We have been blessed with such a lot of loving support these past few weeks that it seems appropriate to re-post this old one...

Friends

Friends are the links in the chain of our lives
More precious than a bright diamond band
Each friendship is jewel-like, to be admired
To protectively hold in your hand
Friends gathered in childhood and in our youth
Are with us throughout years of ageing
Other friendships are made along the way
Whenever our lives are a-changing
Treasure your friends as you go on life’s path
Befriend them when they need a shoulder
The warmth of their friendship will comfort you
When life seems to get a bit colder

© Ida Jones

Saturday, 27 August 2016

do not seek me in the cold ground

I wrote this poem a few years ago when I realised we might not often, if ever, be able to visit our son's grave. Sadly, it now seems appropriate for both our children.


do not seek me in the cold ground

My bones may be in cold ground but do not seek me there.
I am not in the grey clouds that fill the evening air;
the gurgle of a stream is just the water running free,
it does not hide my laughter; that is in your memory.
I am not in the forest amid the treetops high
nor in the gentle breezes, when they blow a sigh.
I am not in wide fields, or down upon the beach;
look, but you’ll not find me for I am out of reach.
My voice is not in birdsong, or in children’s play;
I am not in the sunset that ends a busy day.
You will not find me in the wind that blows, or on a stormy sea;
nowhere in the whole wide world is the being that was me.
But the place where you will find me, even though we are apart,
is not so very far because I live on in your heart

© Ida Jones

R.I.P.   
Timothy David Berkshire Jones - 27.07.1963 - 01.09.1985
Sheridan Louise Berkshire Musson (nee Jones) 07.02.1968 - 20.08.2016

Friday, 19 August 2016

little outings

Because of family health problems, we do not get out much these days or for very long but sometimes are able to take a little time-out…

6th August

We return to a favourite spot - the riverside at Juvigny.  We are surprised at how much the flowers and shrubs have grown. 




















We sit on a bench but the weather is very hot and we decide to sit in the car, parked under a shady tree, with the windows open. Two minutes later, someone arrives with a lawn mower and we have to move.  We take a scenic route and return home.

14th August

A drive through the countryside and a short stop at the entrance to the Damvillers forest…





Facing open countryside, the car park, picnic area and entrance to the forest is guarded by a beautiful, old tree...










Sunday, 10 July 2016

Summer Sunday

hot, sunny Sunday afternoon
the indolent countryside
stretches out in the heat
gives up her golden harvest
as 24/7 farmers swelter,
bale hay and stack it high
on trailers behind tractors,
at their busiest time of year
no time to be lethargic -
that is left to me, a mere observer.
I sit by a village pond
in the shade of a willow
listening to the distant hum
of harvesters and tractors
chorus with birdsong in the still air.

Friday, 10 June 2016

A holiday - and after.

A week ago we returned from a two-week holiday in Pas de Calais.  We discovered the area many years ago when we decided to stop and explore the area around Calais rather than, like so many including us, just use it as a jumping-off point to other parts of France. From Calais down past Boulogne to the Baie de Somme the countryside is very pretty, the beaches of the Cote d’Opale stunning and the towns interesting.

This time we stayed in a charming cottage with a lovely garden in a small village all set in a pretty valley yet within easy reach of Montrieul, Etaples, Le Touquet and Saint Cecile…the latter being a favourite of mine.

We had mixed weather and rather too much rain, but mostly drizzly rather than the heavy downpours along with thunder and lightning that has hit much of France this so-called Spring. But we were able to enjoy a few warm days including two with brilliant sun shining from clear blue skies. 

As we were in need of a restful time and because we had stayed in the area previously, we hadn’t planned to do a lot of chasing about which was just as well as the fuel shortage due to strikes over the proposed labour changes coincided with our visit.  We were able to top-up on the auto route and, not being sure how the situation might escalate, nursed our supplies to make sure we were able to get back home when the time came! 

From the front door of the cottage -  a tantalising glimpse of the garden through the back door.




Partly cloudy but a warm evening to welcome us.

For the next couple of days, the sky looked more like this...






...with intermittent drizzly rain yet whether wet or dry the garden seemed always to be filled with birdsong.


Then it was dry for a few days. We drove through the Baie de Somme area and popped into Berck but it was too windy for comfort.










On other days, we enjoyed fish and chips at Etaples  - and a visit to Sainte Cecile for indulgent, delicious ice-cream sundaes from the terrace of a cafe facing the sea...




Difficult to believe that, after such blue sky and hot sun on the Sunday, the rest of the week was grey, wet and very cold.  That was when the wood-burner in the cottage came into its own!  We did get out some afternoons for a change of scene, but spent much of the time in front of the fire, watching English TV - including the tennis from Paris! - and also read books.  We arrived home to a thunderstorm and the next day the start of a week's-long heat wave!  C'est la vie! 

Since then, I've been catching up with things but, this morning, in warm, sunny weather we went to the pretty river-side spot of Juvigny and the River Loison, where two waters meet - one slow yet overflowing into a field, the other racing to get under the bridge...










...and a fragrant bench on which to sit. How lucky we are to be able to enjoy these respites.