One of the many things that Canadians and Brits have in common is a healthy interest in the weather. Sometimes it's an unhealthy interest depending on the time of year. Because of my pattern of not staying for more than two weeks during the winter months in the past, I had no idea that Vancouver had a monsoon season. When I left for Britain, a record number of days of rain was on the cards, but here's the thing, had it not been for the constant discussion on the telly over whether the rain would break previous records, I wouldn't even have noticed it. Rain in Britain is just a fact of life and a damn sight more interesting than the constant grey skies. Whilst I was away it seems to have rained a lot more here, deluging some places, forcing evacuations, in Portsmouth, grey skies, sometimes blue skies, you know the drill.
Since I arrived back it has seemed springlike here to me. Every morning I have looked out to clear blue, even one morning when it had rained during the night. Yesterday again, blue sky, but there had been a frost, so it looked exquisite. Across the road in the park/school playing fields this morning, seagulls are being playful, chasing each other between the goalposts, not exactly endearing I know, but, well, enthusiastic at least. Makes me wonder where the crows have gone, throughout the dripping mists of November big fat crows would place themselves in trees and on the frames of the sports fields. I swear there was one in charge who was directing them.
''Ere she comes Fred, you perch on the top branch, Terry, plonk yerself on the middle one, I'll hang around here at the bottom and follow 'er with me eyes, yeah, that's the ticket, Fred! Plump up them feathers, c'mon, look a bit more crow-like.'
What's missing ? Well, blossom and flowers. Yep, I know, it IS only early February, but we mustn't forget the universal law that daffs must be out before St. David's day, so they'd better get a move on.
We did plant some daffs in the tiny patch of earth out the back in the autumn, and they are pushing up through the soil. My hyacinth which Austen and Sue brought me back from France one year is also peeping out of its pot. But when I left England there was blossom on some of the trees.
I planted some tomato seeds yesterday, ones which I had saved from last season's toms. In Britain we have airing cupboards, wonderful warm places where you can put the clothes and bedclothes you don't want to sort, or are perhaps still a little damp, you can put bread in there to rise and you can put your tommie seeds in on the floor to germinate in the warmth and darkness. Cats are also fans of airing cupboards.
I was reminded, while thinking about the slight lag in signs of spring, about when I used to go to Bristol. Now you wouldn't think of Bristol as being a very exciting destination, being a huge and somewhat sprawling city. The University of London used to organise two weekend courses a year just outside of Bristol, one in February - Mediaeval French and one in April - Renaissance French. The University of Bristol, one of Britain's most prestigious universities, owned a property called Burwalls house which was just at the end of the Clifton Suspension Bridge. The house was set in beautiful, well-tended gardens and the view out over the ravine was breathtaking.
The cycle of nature in Clifton was about two weeks ahead of where I lived, so another joy was going there and seeing the flowers which were still struggling in Surrey, in full bloom.
The bridge itself was equally inspiring. This was one of the most famous works of Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the engineer who developed the suspension bridge. Another of his designs was the railway station, Bristol Temple Meads, this is a station worth visiting and one of the Portsmouth stations, Portsmouth and Southsea has a similar though scaled down facade. Brunel also built a steamship in Bristol docks, the 'Great Britain'. I would like to be able to say that it sailed to Canada, but in fact its destination was New York, still, right direction.
Like Brunel I was always very drawn to the west. I believe it would be impossible not to fall in love with Clifton and I must take Kevin there one day. I guess I have just come rather further west than Brunel the man, but his work is here. Vancouver is a city that is held together by suspension bridges, mighty feats of engineering that must have depended on the work and vision of this man who was born in Portsmouth.
Nothing new under the sun
3 years ago
3 comments:
In 1996 I left Vancouver to fly to London the end of March. Our spring was just about over. The blooms from the Japanese cherry trees lay pink on the street, beautiful and absolutely everything else was in bloom or past bloom and every flower known to man was up in beds everywhere and bushes were draped in blossoms in every yard. When I arrived we spent a few days in London. The only thing in bloom was daffodils, blooming along the highways and around buildings in the city. A swath of brilliant yellows. But that's all. We visited Worcester and then went up to Caerphylly in Wales for a day or so and back to London to fly to Greece. In Greece when we arrived in early April flowers and trees and leaves were fresh, although it was cooler than usual, apparently. Greece had suffered from a cold winter that year and it didn't quite know when to stop. I was in Greece for almost three weeks and then returned to London for a few days. Leaves were on the trees, except for oaks, and stuff from plane trees floated through the air and settled on the ground. Japanese cherry trees were in bloom now and many other blossoms and flowers abounded. I went up to Manchester area for a week and by the time I returned to London to fly home the leaves were coming on oak trees.
I got back to Vancouver just in time to discover that my aunt had died and I flew to Ottawa in a couple of days for her funeral. When I got to Ottawa, it was coolish and just ending the tulip festival -- quite a lovely thing to see -- tulip bulbs donated by Holland in memory of Canada having the Queen designate in Ottawa during the war (and her daughter -- present queen -- being born in Ottawa). Then I returned home to Vancouver and it was summer. (May). So many seasons in such a short time in one year.
You brought back a memory of that year.
and you have brought back a memory for me, being in the classroom in primary school,big sash windows, milk warming on the radiators, branch of blossom tapping on the window, and learning this poem, I don't know who is it by, but it is called 'London Spring'.
"The rounded buses loom through softest blue,
The pavements smell of dust and of narcissus too,
The awnings stretch like petals in the sun,
And even the oldest taxis glitter as they run.
Over the sooted, secret garden walls,
As in another Eden, cherry blossom falls,
Lithe under gathering lilac steal the cats,
And even the oldest ladies tilt their summery hats."
I was with you in the primary schoolroom and listening to all of you learning the poem LONDON SPRING. It was so beautiful. When I finished reading it I had tears in my eyes. Thank you for this.
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