When I get home I want to do everything at once – listen to the radio, read the Sunday paper, watch my new DVD (David Attenborough’s Kingdom of Plants), eat, drink, write, go into every room to remind myself of what I’d left behind, text my nearest and dearest, read my mail, edit my photos etc etc etc. A terrible burst of simultaneous desires after sitting behind a wheel for three hours. In the end I settle for unpacking before having a cup of tea and some crackers while I listen to Simon Armitage’s play The Torch Bearers on Radio 3 (part of this year’s FreeThinking Festival at the Sage which I missed, being away). I say I listened but it didn’t really go in (apart from his recurring motif of Lunaria annua – Honesty – which did make me prick up my ears). My mind was just too full of motorways and trees and gardens and all the different beds I’d slept in while I was away, all the friends I’d stayed with.
Jackie Hardy, haiku mistress, in Sheffield, who reminded me that Basho (1644 – 1694) was named after the banana plant that his disciples planted outside the hut he’d moved into to live a more solitary life.
by my new banana plant
the first sign of something I loathe –
a miscanthus bud!
Jan in Oxford (whose key I’ve managed to bring home with me…), who left on Friday morning to spend the weekend at Alice Meynell’s (1847 – 1922) house in West Sussex with her friend, the poet’s great-granddaughter.
Alec Peever, my longtime friend and collaborator, who lives in Ducklington in a house almost as old as the Botanic Gardens in Oxford (1621). I collected the slab of sandstone I’d found in my garden some years ago that he’s carved for me: my translation of the name of this place – ‘Stanley’.
My namesake in ‘rural Bolsover’ (currently in need of protection from various plans for development – supermarket/garage/housing), with whom I took the horti out of culture and went to see A Taste of Honey at Sheffield Crucible (raw and compelling, spiced up with a live jazz trio) and visited Harley Gallery – Wendy Ramshaw’s wonderful poetic Room of Dreams. Ramshaw designed the gates at Mowbray Park in Sunderland, where Alec and I worked together in 2000.
At this time of year it’s always the trees that leave the strongest impression and I’ve been ‘woodbathing’ as much as possible, breathing in all their goodness (particularly at Harcourt Arboretum), whilst mourning the loss of the ash trees in Denmark and possibly soon Kent and the threat from the dieback fungus spreading further (52 cases reported nationwide so far).
That’s the last of my travels for the next few months. Now I just have to find the words to describe all these different Botanicals, the wonders that I’ve seen…