In haste
There is so much to write I feel like my head is scrambled. Firstly, yesterday was our one-year Oxford anniversary - the happiest year of my life bar none. I spent it with a migraine that felt like I had a knife through my eye, in bed, then Steve and I had noodles and watched Prince Caspian in the evening. But I was in Oxford. And that’s all that matters.
The air is changing. It’s still freezing, but fresh, with the scent of woodsmoke and that feeling of vital possibility. The light has changed from the chill white of winter (so beautiful) to the tenderness of spring. Crocuses are popping up in the Magdalen St graveyard, and I looked out the bedroom window the other day and caught a glimpse of the back garden three houses over. It’s a carpet of purple, without a blade of green. It’s sad to say goodbye to the splendour of winter, but to re-experience the development of spring in Oxford is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see the explosion of magnolia like pink foam over the facade of St Mary the Virgin in a few weeks.
I’m impatient even sitting here writing this - I so want to be out in the beautiful morning. I’ve got HEAPS to write about, but being out on my bike in that glorious freshness, ancient stone all around me, is all I care about right now. Here are a couple of pics of me from a night walk Steve and I took a couple of weeks ago after a lecture (Steve hasn't got a very steady hand) in front of the Radcliffe Camera (in my favourite vintage dress) and under a lamppost on St Giles. Spring photos to come, and more writing once I can bear to be inside.
The air is changing. It’s still freezing, but fresh, with the scent of woodsmoke and that feeling of vital possibility. The light has changed from the chill white of winter (so beautiful) to the tenderness of spring. Crocuses are popping up in the Magdalen St graveyard, and I looked out the bedroom window the other day and caught a glimpse of the back garden three houses over. It’s a carpet of purple, without a blade of green. It’s sad to say goodbye to the splendour of winter, but to re-experience the development of spring in Oxford is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see the explosion of magnolia like pink foam over the facade of St Mary the Virgin in a few weeks.
I’m impatient even sitting here writing this - I so want to be out in the beautiful morning. I’ve got HEAPS to write about, but being out on my bike in that glorious freshness, ancient stone all around me, is all I care about right now. Here are a couple of pics of me from a night walk Steve and I took a couple of weeks ago after a lecture (Steve hasn't got a very steady hand) in front of the Radcliffe Camera (in my favourite vintage dress) and under a lamppost on St Giles. Spring photos to come, and more writing once I can bear to be inside.