Jane Metcalfe

Perhaps we all want to own what we see. It’s mine and I want it to stay the way I like it! This picture reveals the full beauty of St Leonard’s Gardens, the little park where so many of my photos are taken. I passed it this morning from the outside walking up Maze Hill and off the beaten track enroute to an independent hardware store that is selling all kinds of plants. You can choose them outside the shop then, when it’s your turn, buy them inside from the two timeless ladies, who could have been there for years amidst the packets of screws and nails, blocked sink plungers, et al! What a treasure trove of the practical and delightful (plants)!

No idle buying of another dress I absolutely need, or some slightly worn top from a charity shop that usually lands back in my charity bin liner for a second recycling! My delight right now is for good food and plants and the revels of mother Nature, which includes the varied sightings of the animal and human kingdom.

Anyway this photo makes me think of Constable and other great landscape artists of the late 18th/early 19th century. The aspect of this gem of a Victorian park has not changed much over the years. It is mine but everyone else’s too!

All is good!

 

It was a food shopping walk today – into Hastings along the seafront, down Bottle Alley and past the pier.

Much has changed since I first came to live here – the pier itself seeing one of the largest transformations since much of it was burnt by arson in 2010. Part restored and part redesigned with Heritage funding, it reopened in 2016. It is an unusual, spartan design that is aesthetically pleasing (it won a prestigious architectural prize in 2017) but it wasn’t making money, so, much to the dismay of those who nurtured it back to life, it was sold to a local businessman who didn’t exactly buy it for its aesthetic appeal! It is still work in progress, a mix of slightly tawdry installations set amidst the sleek lines of minimalism in an attempt to make it a paying concern. Whilst not going back to its previous incarnation of slot machines (my son’s obsession back in the day!) candy floss, sickly sweeties and an arcade of cheap an’ cheerful goodies for tourists, it is now neither fish nor fowl.

Having said all that the underbelly, its base upon which it rests, is pretty well unchanged. You can see in the picture its magnificence, the geometric lines through which you can peep (an echo of “what the butler saw”!) to the beach beyond. I have always loved this!

So, two pictures of the pier, at a distance like some giant centipede reaching out to sea, and close up, a surreal underworld where seagulls and the like hang about. 

 

 

This is a day (Easter Sunday) when hope rises, where the focus, perhaps, is on the myriad good things about life. As we currently have more time to reflect it may be that all the celebratory days that have been etched in our calendars for centuries take on a heightened depth of meaning. Globally, we are having to reassess the value of life on this glorious plane; what our real relationship is to it all.

I went out early today to my little park and stood by my favourite tree, where I sometimes spontaneously do some tai chi or qigong. I was taught that if you stand close to a tree and put your hands on its trunk, or stand with your back against it; sink your attention on the earth beneath your feet, depending on the time of day you can feel the energy rising upwards in the morning and from noon on, sinking downwards. You can experience being part of that natural flow and come away feeling refreshed. It never fails to lift me or calm me down – whichever is most needed.

Happy Easter!

 

 

 

I went for my walk with a sense of anticipation at what wonders I might come across today, Good Friday. The sun is still shining, the sea is a sparkly undulating strip pinned under the sky, and up on West Hill Rd the bluebells and other little gems of varying shades, shape and size hang lazily about on banks. No social distancing here!

I wanted to give my 99 year old landlady, who lives underneath me, some flowers for Easter, so, a little guiltily at first,  I picked samples of these treasures, being careful not to take more than one or two from each clump. Her delight when I presented them to her was well worth it.

Suddenly this pub looks inviting: good food, a glass of wine, the hum of chat and laughter in the background… The Bo Peep – not somewhere I would normally think of going, but today, like the little match girl standing all alone on the pavement, I had a strong “vision” of the community beyond the walls. (Sigh.)

“Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep…” Indeed she has!! But I pass by grateful for what I do have.