One of the things that I miss about living in a city, are the fantastic municipal gardens the Victorians laid down for promenade and constitutional. I love the mature planting, the spaces designed for quiet reflection, the meandering pathways. I love the houses that surround these places; those beautiful Victorian villas with sash windows and gabled roofs. In fact I'm a sucker for anything Victorian.
The schools I went to were red bricked Victorian edifices. I was bought up in an area of Victorian terraced houses that lined the railway made famous by one of the greatest Victorians. I adore all those municipal buildings, and the architectural detailing given to places that were used everyday, such as train stations and civic buildings. It's a bit grand and sometimes over the top. Maybe a tad pompous.
I love living in West Cornwall. I really do. The space of it appeals to me. It feels cut off from the rest of the country. An escape that Marc and I were looking for when we moved here eleven years ago. It has spoilt us with it's natural beauty, and seduced us with it's beaches, coves and landscape. I'm not sure that I would class myself as a city girl at heart, but every now and then I yearn to wander the streets of a large town or city. I love looking at this different landscape, and being seduced by it's man-made beauty.
I can escape back to Bristol, where I was born. But when I need a quick fix, I head over the Penzance and wander around there. I did it today with a raging hangover. I loved every minute of it, but in particular Penlee Park and the surrounding streets. My favourite bit was the garden of remembrance. It was peaceful and serene. I wandered around and admired the mature shrubs, especially the Camellias (duly added to my plant lust list). The Chapel wasn't open, otherwise I would have written in the book of remembrance. Instead I sat on the bench with an inscription to the man who tended the gardens many years ago, and thought about stuff.
I thought about the people in my life, and those who are no longer here.
I thought about the coming week and made plans and to do lists.
I thought about change.
Back home the day crept along. The hangover lingered. Marc took Olly and Alfie swimming. We ate an easy tea, and back to school and work preparations began. One working away bag packed. Two packed lunches made and put in the fridge. School uniforms ready. Homework done at the last minute. A quiet evening.
An early night.