Ghosts of Oxford

There is something about Autumn and Oxford that seems to go hand in hand.

An energy hung in the air. Ingrained in the stone. Centuries of thought and knowledge. Ideas sparked and creations birthed. The ghosts of so many minds, gathered in one place. Seeping between the streets and buildings like blood in veins.

Maybe it was because of the time of year, just a few days until it was Halloween, when folk speak of the veil being thin?

It was a good energy. The kind that you absorb deep inside to refill your own creative well. So we soaked it in and we wandered and browsed in book shops and sipped hot chocolate.
 Our main reason for going was to catch the Tolkien exhibition 'Maker of Middle Earth' which was in its last few days at the Weston library. I had been meaning to go since the summer when it opened, but never got around to it. So it was a last chance, before it headed off to far off lands.

So over the misty mountains we went...

Through the door,  or past it at least.

And into a lovely exhibition displaying Tolkien's sketches, paintings and notes. His desk and chair, old tobacco smoking pipes and paint set were on show too. It was wonderful for a short while to be immersed in snippets and details of his world. How incredibly small his writing was, so perfect and the attention to detail was a joy to see.  Sadly photographs inside were not allowed, so instead I will share the postcard set that I bought, which shows some of the art work which was on display.

Although the exhibition has moved on now, you can browse Tolkien items to buy in the Bodleian libraries shop here including the postcard set that I bought.

Afterwards we headed to the Eagle and Child. This is the pub where Tolkien used to meet up weekly with C.S Lewis and other writers to discuss their works in progress.

We sat in the very spot, ate lunch (a veggie burger, just incase you were wondering ;) ) and enjoyed a drink or two.

It was a lovely day out and I got to tick off the Eagle and Child off of my long list of things to do and places to visit.  

Some of my days.

Today the sea sounds as if it's just outside. The wind is in the branches, shaking the brightest green new leaves on the Ash. It's scattering the hawthorns white petals, an offering of snow that we didn't receive in Winter.
It's quite a chilly start to the first of June here with the wind (and now rain) so I shall turn my time turner back to May, when the sun shone.
I didn't get a chance to share as many pictures last month, being busy, working on my hangers.
I didn't share my walks to the bluebell woods, the quiet dappled sunlight, walking through the deer track.

Or the holly blue butterflies visiting the holly blossom. 

I haven't shared small moments of play

And now that the boot sales have started again. The finding of 'treasures', for just a few pennies.

There have been a few travels in-between. Across and down, to West Sussex where I had lunch at the lovely town of Arundel and visited the beautiful castle there.

Then last week down to Cornwall for a short visit to my Sister.
We stopped at our usual tea break stop on the way, just off of the main road, Jamaica Inn.

Where I picked up a little something to read.

We caught the boat to St Michaels Mount and climbed the prettiest path up to the castle.

A cup of tea was enjoyed, accompanied with one of the best views.  

     I found these beauties in the castle, delicate stained glass inspiration.

Back home again, here the bluebells and apple blossom have gone over and the holly blossom has already turned into an abundance of green berries.

The roses are beginning to bloom.  

And the garden is filled with flowers.

     Song of The Flower 

I am a kind word uttered and repeated

By the voice of Nature;

I am a star fallen from the

Blue tent upon the green carpet.

I am the daughter of the elements

With whom Winter conceived;

To whom Spring gave birth; I was

Reared in the lap of Summer and I

Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze

To announce the coming of light;

At eventide I join the birds

In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with

My beautiful colors, and the air

Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is

The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath;

I am the memory of a moment of happiness;

I am the last gift of the living to the dead;

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light,

And never look down to see my shadow.

This is wisdom which man must learn.

 - Khalil Gibran

I am back at the desk now and have a huge list to begin ticking off. 

Enjoy your week. :) x