Thursday, 25 August 2011

Goodbye to Summer

Christmas windows in the shops, the first conkers falling,  warming soup on the hob and I am back to black with an accent of colour.
It looks like Summer is over. So before I hibernate my legs and wobbly bits, I cast my eyes back at some seaside windows and remember a few glorious days. [ Too few if the truth be told]  Most of them happening on working weeks , ending with umbrella weekends.

So to Hastings windows I go.

The above window is from a cake and delicatessen shop where we bought our lunch. Buckets, spades and sandcastles, the quintessential part of an English seaside excursion. Look more closely at the castle, not sand but corks, so a version called Cork Castle. What a great party they must have had to provide all those battlements and ramparts. Summer evenings drinking chilled white wine with friends, now that is a good memory.

This window is very interesting. A deck chair on a beach, what a great way to spend the day.
However, look more closely and it might not be so appealing. Some of the model seems to be made with discarded remnants from the shoreline that the sea has rejected. Or is this just my interpretation?

A little further down the High Street and I come across a vintage window. Part of my idea of a good day out by the sea is rummaging in junk shops for vintage finds. This is more up market than a junk shop but offers interesting artifacts for consideration and is always worth a visit when the weather is inclement.

The window below is of Shimizu Flowers run by the delightful  and courteous Mao Bramall I came home with a spotted white Digitalis. I rather like the common name of Foxglove or fairy-bells. Perhaps I will be the Foxy Lady drinking tea from my china cup and saucer , wearing gloves, in my autumn garden, listening out for fairy bells. [Thanks Judi]

I have saved these till last. Flowers, beautiful flowers to take me into Autumn. So now I settle down with my bulb and plant catalogues. I fill my notebook with lists- lovely long fragrant lists , heady with the promise of perfume blooms. The postman brings exciting plugs of latin named species to fill my garden with white blossoms and petals as I clothe myself in black. The Lathyrus latifolius [everlasting sweetpea- white] and the Clematis urophylla- Winter Beauty have arrived. Eryngiums, Hydrangea arborescens, Narcissus and tuilips are on their way.


        Sometimes it is the simplest of images that are the most arresting:


                                                           I'd choose to be a daisy, 
                                                           If I might be a flower;
                                                          Closing my petals softly
                                                          At twilight's quiet hour; 
                                                          And waking in the morning,
                                                          Whenfalls the early dew, 
                                                          To welcome Heaven's bright sunshine,   
                                                          And Heaven's bright tear-drops too.                                                     


The Language of Flowers- Penhaligon's

1 comment:

  1. Newton the badger is looking forward to all that new planting in the autumn garden. He would like to have a cup of tea with Foxy Lady so they can discuss the flavours of the new plants that he would most enjoy.