...and substance.After heavy rain, as the sky clears this morning, the smell of wet, fallen leaves makes me think: if I were abroad, this is what would make nostalgic for Autumn in England, a mellow faintly decomposing smell, an inconseqential, modest smell, the smell carried by the wind this morning among the trees in The Grove.
"I feel quite weary," says my neighbour, David when I enquire after his well being. "Must be the weather, " I say. "No," says he, "we had a guest yesterday. I find that exhausting."
4 comments:
I've recycled it before, possibly on your blog, but I can't resist the repetition. E. Waugh again: "Oh the relief when the last dinner guest passes out through the door and one is able to pick up something like Portrait of a Lady." Have you ever sought solace for weariness in Henry James?
Wonderful juxtaposition of the shadow side of the photo. When first glanced, my brain said, "Hunh?!" Then it set about solving the puzzle, which brains so love to do.
Oops...meant to write "...the unexpected juxtaposition..."
In latter years I think that may be I have. There is peace to be found in that winding sytax if you cocentrate enough, free from the burden of conversation.
Crow Do you know the German artist Georg Baselitz, many of whose drawings and paintings are presented upside down? Only his signature indicates which way the picture should be looked at.
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