Opening: The village, in the hollow below the house, is picturesque, unhygienic: it has more atmosphere than form, than out line: huddled shapes of soft red brick sag towards gardens massed with sunflowers, Canterbury bells, sweet williams.
Sometimes it is perfect to hunker down into the flannelette-esque comfort of a plotless prose that displays such beauty.
‘Oh nature, Oh nature, with all thy powers
What dost thou do through the long winter hours?
I love thee, oh nature, so sweet and so good,
But where does thou get thy winter food?’
NB I read to my dog and she particularly liked my rendition of the little Wainwrights chorusing ‘Yaas’. Hilarious.
3* Invitation to the Waltz
CR The Weather in the Streets
3* Dusty Answer
4* The Echoing Grove