Windflowers and Hope

Blue windflowers. Just a few. They’re very early this year. They’ve naturalised in my gardens over the years. February can be a lovely month with the awakening of things. It’s months since my most recent post, which was headed ‘Harvest Again’.
There’s a winter of the mind. Maybe for some it corresponds with the season of winter. But it can happen at any time: in the mind.
It’s never far away from me. Yet here, as I look out from the bypass at the distant Chiltern Hills, where snow is forecast tomorrow, my hopes, like the crocus and the tight daffodil buds in my garden, flicker hesitantly but with certainty, into my consciousness. Somewhere near me but too far for me to walk these days, a stream flows, full to overflowing, into a river which joins the great river, which opens into the sea many miles to the east.
Last year’s cornfields by the bypass are green this year, with rapeseed plants. These will be golden in a few months’ time: but the winter of the mind, that’s never far from me.
There’s been an underlying, maybe undeclared Christian hope, in all I’ve written on this blog. Will all be well and all manner of thing be well, as Dame Julian Norwich said, hundreds of year ago? I can’t see the last pages of this book, as I read my memories.
Every year I mourn the passing of the lovely bank of daffodils which border our town’s cricket field. They’re blooming again. I shall mourn them again as summer beckons – and then, again for another year, summer ends.
I want to believe that ‘all shall be well’, all that is lost restored, all ills healed, not for a season but for ever. Meanwhile, as the evening traffic rushes by, in the mud, and by the odd scrap of litter. I spot a tiny blue flower of ground ivy.
Still here. Still hoping – while eight weeks after I wrote this, the blue flowers are fading, as are the daffodils by the cricket field: and Spring burgeons.

About lleweton

Long retired.
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3 Responses to Windflowers and Hope

  1. Rob Hickok says:

    Llew, it’s been a long time. I’m glad you’ve put another one up. I’ve missed your words.

    I started writing again. And my last two are somewhat related to your country. I feel a tad guilty, since I’ve never visited, but I’ve read a lot, and always pore over photos from Britain and neighbors.

    • lleweton says:

      Many thanks for your comment Rob. I’m still unsure whether there’s anything more that I have to say but I’ll take things as they come. I’ve just read ‘the-long-chalks’ .Time, scene, place and mood ring true – which is pretty impressive, given that you’re separated by an ocean and more from the White Horse, which is in my county, Oxfordshire, less than an hour’s drive away. Regards.

      • Rob Hickok says:

        Thanks, friend. I am a desert rat more than anything else, but I’ve always loved literature about your country. Tolkien, Pratchett, Lewis, Lawhead are some authors who have captured it for me. And the photos are always compelling.

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