Author Archives: lleweton

About lleweton

Long retired.

Looking Up

With the promise of Spring everywhere here in England I look from my bedroom window to the distant hills and Psalm 121 comes to mind:  ‘I will lift up mine eyes …’ This blog began seven years ago with reflections … Continue reading

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Picking Up The Pieces

For the past year I have been looking  back. The previous posts in this sequence have reflected, as I see them now,  intimations of immortality – to quote Wordsworth’s poem. I’ve just looked it up : ‘There was a time … Continue reading

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Palm Sunday, 2017

Originally posted on Lleweton's Blog:
Each year I welcome the long drifts of daffodils below our town cricket field, and I’m sad when they fade, all too soon, as they have now here in Oxfordshire. You can’t pin down…

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This is just to test

Have had trouble logging in after a long gap in posting. This just to test.

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Palm Sunday, 2017

Each year I welcome the long drifts of daffodils below our town cricket field, and I’m sad when they fade, all too soon, as they have now here in Oxfordshire. You can’t pin down the Spring, like a moth in … Continue reading

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Still Here

A quiet evening. Still not a cloud in the sky. Still the scent of the now-fading orange blossom. Another midsummer passing inexorably towards autumn. Still here. Still hoping that eternity is here.  The stump of the crab apple tree is … Continue reading

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Passing Traffic

Again, our town’s by-pass with its view of distant hills. At this time of year I love to wander out and take in the view. At one time I found that passing cars with young men in them would sometimes hurl … Continue reading

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Marking Time

Our town’s by-pass again: a clear evening, the hills in crisp view. Acres of oil seed rape are waiting to be harvested. Wimbledon is over again. The darker side of me thinks I might as well start writing my Christmas … Continue reading

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Two Images

Two images prevail in my mind tonight. One is a postcard which is on my windowsill. It is of the Lady Chapel of the 12th Century  Church of St Bartholomew the Great, in Smithfield in the City of London. I … Continue reading

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Silence

I edit myself into silence. Perhaps I am not alone in old age in doing that. I’ve known so many approaching the end of their lives who keep their thoughts to themselves. They appear to be serene. I think that … Continue reading

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