Despite everything
All the drought, hard soil, strange drops of rain that are full of dust and make orange-brown spots on cars, but don’t actually water anything - this fabulous rose manages to bloom like this. In the front garden of a big house on the main road nearby. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. The rose bush must have deep roots to be still getting enough moisture.
I mentioned recently I was thinking about wild fires all around the world. I read about one in Edinburgh recently, on Arthur’s seat. Well there was one in Bristol this week - in Stoke Park - the big park by t he M32 if anyone knows that. The smell of burning has been hanging around for days and it’s really nasty, and gets into the back of your throat. I’m at least 2 miles from it.
Thinking of lovely things, I had lunch outside at the Ostrich yesterday - a pub beside a lock in the Redcliffe part of the floating harbour. I mentioned a while back my friends had come back to Bristol after living in deepest Wales for a while. We are having a monthly lunch trying out a different eating place each time. It’s always good to see them (they’re the people who gave me Portia). Though Portia wouldn’t see it like that - as far as she’s concerned she requested a transfer:-))
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