To the Lighthouse and other places

A quick injection of colour to kick start 

a long overdue entry

on this blackest of November days 

with the clocks well and truly back.

At the end of October,

we climbed the Old Lighthouse at Dungeness

and saw the beautiful mirrored light at the top.

I'm very keen on this fool's Fair Isle wool 

and have embarked on a third hooded jumper for a grandchild,

in a size large enough to show off the colour variations 

to better advantage.

By way of complete contrast I came upon

this very old cemetery while out on a mundane errand

and was swallowed up by a wholly unexpected wilderness

only yards from a busy and nondescript street in south London.

(not our dog)

A graveyard of a different kind,

for Citroen 2 CVs inexplicably abandoned

and left to decay

on the banks of the River Rother.

Pictures from a trip to Spitalfields' Fournier Street,

could so easily have been scenes of decay

but houses worth £4000 in the 60s fetch millions now.

 That is the spiral staircase inside the aforementioned lighthouse.

Quite a climb but the view was worth it.

(only part way up)

The Royal Academy is exhibiting Antony Gormley's work.
The final piece Host was this room flooded with sea water.
As with all the pieces, my greatest interest was in fathoming
how they got everything installed.

It has been windy today

but not as windy as Tokyo.

Our son arrived in time for one typhoon

and was an old hand four weeks later

for Typhoon Hagibis.

The sun shone brightly the next morning

and we slept a little more easily that night. 

The Last Hurrah - Sissinghurst

It looks quiet from up here on the tower parapet

but actually it was very busy

as people took advantage of another beautiful Saturday

to visit Sissinghurst before it closes for the winter.

Back home I brought in the last of the Cosmos

in anticipation of the Arctic blast being  excitedly flagged up

by the tabloids for the end of the week.

The clocks go back, the days contract

and I have taken delivery of a new chair.

(I'll show it to you later.)

I see more sitting in my future.

There has not been much of that of late.

Places to find some peace and (relative) quiet

Turtle spotting in Central Park.

A trip on the tramway (actually a cable car) 

over the East River to Roosevelt Island.

Very little to do there

but a stroll to the Four Freedoms Park

was pleasant enough and completely deserted.

The outright winner for tranquility was the Met Cloisters.

Monarch butterflies in the Conservatory Garden.

Purl Soho. A pilgrimage to see the knitting shop of online fame.

It was certainly quiet in there. Somnolent even.

I had to ask someone to help me 

because nothing is labelled for brand, composition or price.

After a short discussion and vague hand waving at the shelves,

 the young woman turned away, as I thought, 

to show me a pattern but to my consternation

fell into another assistant's arms for a prolonged embrace, 

much back stroking and murmurs of consolation.

I stood behind her wondering what I had done to trigger this collapse.

Eventually she straightened and wandered over to the rack. 

I came away empty-handed.