Author Archives: lleweton

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 →

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 →

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 →

The May blossom is fading: another year. There are many years to recall by now. Mrs Llew and I have been reading her diaries. She has kept diaries all her life. As we read, I remember other May times: other … Continue reading →

Another Maytime and the hawthorn blossom covers the wild ground, said to conceal a World War Two bunker at the end of my road. Crush a few feathery blooms of cow parsley and the herb scent lingers on my palms. The … Continue reading →

If this were a portrait only a fifth of it would show the land and the hills beyond. The rest would be sky: shades of pale blue, and white clouds tinted with blue. There is a raised thicket by the … Continue reading →

I’ve an icon on the wall of my study. Perhaps it contains a blessing. I bought it 45 years ago, when Mrs Llew and I moved, full of hope and maybe a sense of achievement, into a rambling, Edwardian house … Continue reading →