Tranquil waters, wild Elder.

The first day of the holidays dawned bright and clear. I awoke early, to the sound of falling rain and the uncomfortable sensation of the cat trying to nibble my elbow at 5.40 am. I remembered

?the school holidays/extensive period of unemployment had begun;
? my proposed camping trip had been cancelled at the last minute;
? I hadn't heard about the job I'd been interviewed for, so it was probably too late.

I pottered around glumly for an hour or three, and then the phone rang.

To sum up, I have been offered a part time job, in the town where I live, at the school where I've been volunteering. The school has created a new post, and I start in September. As my work finishes at 1.30 pm, I will still be able to have a life outside of work/travel, and to carry on my existing massage/teaching work. Hurrah!

To celebrate, I went down to town to buy pecan-plaited-pastries. I wandered along the canal towpath, but ended up on the incredibly busy bypass because the towpath is closed for twelve weeks, for development of the canal. This displeased me, so when I got to 'my' junction of the London road, instead of going home, I walked back along the towpath, gaily ignoring the 'closed' signs (anyway, the map showing extent of the closures had been posted upside down!).

I got to Arundel Mill pond without incident. This is one of my favourite places in Stroud. The mill is long gone, but a rushing stream hurls itself from the pond down the he mill race remains into the river Frome, bringing to mind the drowning of the beautiful but aloof Eustacia Vye in Hardy's Return of the Native. Though the water level was higher than I'd ever seen it, there was no one around, not a solitary siren drowning, nor a single swan a-swimming.

Trying to capture the splashing, sparkling water was a challenge, but I was pleased with at least one shot. I chose this image, though, because elderflower cordial is a part of Gloucestershire's rural economy. When I moved to Stroud, eighteen years ago, The Bottle Green Drinks Company still hired teenagers to pick wild elderflower blossoms for 50 pence a bag. Now that the cordials are sold all over the developed and developing world, employment practices have changed.

I once had a therapy room on the same former mill site /industrial estate as Bottle Green, and the rumble of pallet-bearing lorries into the yard was ceaseless. Fortunately, my room faced out onto the back, overlooking an old teazle tower http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/192470 and and a field of black faced sheep. This was my Room with a View. There I could write, as well as giving therapies, and I also ran writing workshops. It's been on my wish list ever since I left the mill: another nurturing, creative space with an inspirational view. Perhaps, like others, I will find it on blipfoto.