Wanderings by the Wye and on to Hereford
A leisurely morning, and breakfast outside in the garden. The owner Lesley said we should go for a walk in the garden, and it was deceptively long, and kept opening up into new areas. Absolutely gorgeous and full of trees, including apple, pear and plum, plus some vegetables, trees an enormous horse chestnut and so on. We picked two apples and mine had pinkish flesh. Butterflies drifting about too. Had a long chat with Lesley who we both liked, she is a semiretired acupuncturist, and talked about the Monmouth Bubble. Chatted about the picture that is in the room too, a rather nice abstract from a woman living locally.
Off then into the Wye Valley, and to look at Tintern Abbey, which windy old Wordsworth liked so much, he wrote one of his better poems about. A gorgeous road through forested hills, and Tintern Abbey impressive, although you couldn't actually wander about it as it was closed. Peering in, seeing the forest through empty windows, and arched doorways looking at remains of other arched doorways inside, all rather lovely. We mooched about and then crossed the river and had a wooded walk alongside the river with glimpses of the Abbey through the trees.
We drove back towards Monmouth again, but stopped in a little village where there was a car park, and found a shaded spot by the river with a gorgeous view. We sat there eating a little picnic watching shoals of minnows in the shallows and the river flowing by. All very nice indeed.
This idyllic interlude over, we hopped back in the car and drove off to Hereford, to see Lorraine's cousin Maxine and Simon who live in the countryside nearby. I really liked them both, and their two teenagers, Amelia and Taylor. Amelia, had blossomed into a goth since we last saw them after we met them at Lorraine's Aunt Rose's funeral last September. Maxine's house is next door to where her parents lived, and is otherwise quite isolated with just one or two nearby houses islanded by fields with views towards hills and the Black Mountains of Wales to the west. We sat in the garden, which was beautiful, eating cake and having cups of tea. Maxine making us laugh, describing her phobic reaction to moths, despite liking butterflies, and as a former BA stewardess with 20 years experience, how strongly she now dislikes flying. Simon told me that he enjoys horror, and I said I would send him a couple of stories.
Fond, but socially distant farewells, before driving back to Monmouth. A quiet night in, eating our salady provisions, and playing cards. Both quite tired.
Below in the Edenic back garden, a speckled wood butterfly and a European hornet. Tintern Abbey which demanded to be shot in black and white too, especially as it had clouded over a little, and an idyllic interlude on the Wye.
Off then into the Wye Valley, and to look at Tintern Abbey, which windy old Wordsworth liked so much, he wrote one of his better poems about. A gorgeous road through forested hills, and Tintern Abbey impressive, although you couldn't actually wander about it as it was closed. Peering in, seeing the forest through empty windows, and arched doorways looking at remains of other arched doorways inside, all rather lovely. We mooched about and then crossed the river and had a wooded walk alongside the river with glimpses of the Abbey through the trees.
We drove back towards Monmouth again, but stopped in a little village where there was a car park, and found a shaded spot by the river with a gorgeous view. We sat there eating a little picnic watching shoals of minnows in the shallows and the river flowing by. All very nice indeed.
This idyllic interlude over, we hopped back in the car and drove off to Hereford, to see Lorraine's cousin Maxine and Simon who live in the countryside nearby. I really liked them both, and their two teenagers, Amelia and Taylor. Amelia, had blossomed into a goth since we last saw them after we met them at Lorraine's Aunt Rose's funeral last September. Maxine's house is next door to where her parents lived, and is otherwise quite isolated with just one or two nearby houses islanded by fields with views towards hills and the Black Mountains of Wales to the west. We sat in the garden, which was beautiful, eating cake and having cups of tea. Maxine making us laugh, describing her phobic reaction to moths, despite liking butterflies, and as a former BA stewardess with 20 years experience, how strongly she now dislikes flying. Simon told me that he enjoys horror, and I said I would send him a couple of stories.
Fond, but socially distant farewells, before driving back to Monmouth. A quiet night in, eating our salady provisions, and playing cards. Both quite tired.
Below in the Edenic back garden, a speckled wood butterfly and a European hornet. Tintern Abbey which demanded to be shot in black and white too, especially as it had clouded over a little, and an idyllic interlude on the Wye.
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