A lovely morning: bright sun, blue sky with fluffy white and dark grey clouds, chill wind but invigorating. We took a footpath up hills and through woodlands and fields, with daffodils under trees, birds singing on branches, lambs with their ewes. We saw mountain ranges covered with bright snow, fells in dark shadow, sea glistening in sunlight rays. Beauty all around us… good to be alive and live in such a paradise.
We take the downward path — what's this? Seats that were perfect last time we were there, now with their wooden panels smashed; only the iron supports remaining. The wood had gone… where? Beer cans thrown over the wall. A wreath placed in memory of a loved one discarded with the rubbish. Further on, another memorial seat given the same treatment.
Tears came to my eyes…
To grow up blind to nature, indifferent to other's feelings, a destroyer not a builder, is so sad, so very sad.
About Me
- Gladys Hobson
- Everything about my early life can be found in my illustrated book of childhood memories: When Phones Were Immobile and Lived in RED BOXES. Read the first two chapters at: www.magpiesnestpublishing.co.uk I also have my novels and anthologies on that site. I trained as a dress designer. Later turned to teaching. Took early retirement to train for church ministry. For the last eight years a full time writer. Personal experiences and settings tend to pop up in my stories! All my academic qualifications have been achieved in my middle and later years — as happened with most working-class achievers of my generation. I try to keep a sense of humour in all aspects of life. I can laugh at myself and at oldie jokes. But I wish the media would put less emphasis on faculties lost in old age (cause for laughter) and more on the wisdom gained. We old biddies do know a thing or two!
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