SUMMER 1886  

Dearest Will  

You remember the old path to the Mill at Carters Cottage?  Flowers brushed my skirt and clung to my hem and seeded themselves. The same path I walk today is fragranced with stocks and sundew. Solitary cornflowers and starthistle beckon my steps.

 I alight on Brier’s dry stone wall, hold your letter and compose myself. I read, decanting your affections. A perfect day. The evening creeps in soaking the mill in soft orange light spilling to the ground. The ducks move dappling the pond  and the mill’s reflection becomes a Monet painting. I miss you Will but I share this moment through your words. Your kindness and gentleness make you who you are. My knight, my champion.

 I am still on the wall for it is a perfect evening. I read your letter yet again before the equinox quenches the light and I will be unable to mingle with your soul. I return home and the evening mist dampens my clothes.  

Yours forever

Hett        Picked today

 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,  Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;  Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.  Charity never faileth

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PAGE 2

Oft have I seen at some cathedral-doorA laborer, pausing in the dust and heat,

Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet

Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor

Kneel to repeat his pater-noster o'er;

Far off the noises of the world retreat;

The loud vociferations of the street

Become an undistinguishable roar.

So, as I enter here from day to day,

And leave my burden at this minster-gate,

Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,

The tumult of the time disconsolate

To inarticulate murmurs dies away,

While the eternal ages watch and wait.

 Longfellow

Oerhanging the Brier's  Gate

 Water Colour Summer 1886

By Hettie

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