This week's blog was written for you by Marcia.
Living
amongst the treetops is a new and wonderful experience. Two ash trees
grow just beyond the high stone wall outside the kitchen window;
their leaves glimmer green and gold in the early morning sunshine,
shivering in the breeze. A group of long-tailed tits swing and
flutter amongst the branches a few feet from the kitchen table. The
sitting-room balcony is hung about with honeysuckle, which holds late
flowers and scarlet berries; the slender trunk of a crab-apple tree
pushes its way between the wrought-iron railings and its rosy
ripening fruit arches above our heads.
...ash trees grow just beyond the high stone wall outside the kitchen window . |
...honeysuckle, which holds late flowers and scarlet berries. |
...crab apple...its rosy ripening fruit... |
...a few blue tits... |
They peer inquisitively into chimneys and strut stiff-legged along the gutters, discussing life between themselves in harsh voices. One balances anxiously on a roof-ridge, silhouetted against the sky, like a stand-up comic who has forgotten his lines.
Leaf-shadows
tremble across the balcony and the Virginia creeper, whose tendrils
twine from the west wall across the balustrade, is beginning to burst
into flames of bright colour.
From each room we look across the
village roof-scape to the high shoulders of the moor – much closer
here – and see early sunlight slipping down the steep eastern
slopes and a new moon setting in the west. Rain polishes grey slate
roofs with a soft sheen, mist drifts and gathers on the hills until
they vanish in thick fleecy clouds. Then the west wind races in,
shredding and ripping the clouds apart, and sun slants in through the
many windows: roof-lights, dormer windows, the big sliding windows to
the balcony, so that the house is full of light.
Living
upside down. I love it.