Jack By The Hedge

Declining powers, one must live with them. But is there a concentration of meaning in experience which is ever-more restricted? I remember once glimpsing the distant sea through the gap in a high hedge in a Devon lane: a lovely image. That was as near as I could get, to the sea. But in the deep lane, bordered by the high hedge on each side, the springs of water, as they fell among the ferns and all the green abundance of herbs, kept everything new: and young. Through the gap in the hedge I glimpsed the distant blue ocean. I did not long for it, in this deep, fragrant hollow.
Now, as I potter along by a dusty roadside I spot a lone plant growing from a gap in the concrete. It’s called ‘Jack by the Hedge.’ No hedge here. But I’m back in that deep lane.

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2 Responses to Jack By The Hedge

  1. Rob Hickok says:

    I’ll take the deep lane and abundance of herbs over a seaside view any day. Bucolic is my watchword in nature.

  2. lleweton says:

    Sea view or seaside. You’re well qualified to judge Rob! Incidentally I had a colleague once who came from a fishing community in the far north of Scotland. When I said you could smell the sea as you drew near to it from the landside he was surprised. He said sailors smelled the land as they approached it from the sea. I assume you would know about that too.

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