DIMENSIONS & BLUEBELLS

It's that time of year.  When woodlands are filled with hazy purple-blue and the air is soft and scented. 
The bluebells are out.
So for those of you who don't have these wild and fragrant flowers growing... here are a couple of photos I took on a recent walk.  
This first includes the creamy-white addition of wild garlic (great for adding to home-made pesto)




And in the second is a very HOBBIT-LIKE TREE!  (Which looks exactly like an elephant's trunk)

In other news - apart from battling with my latest hero, Gabe Steel - I'm haunted by the memory of part of a tantalising poem called Dimensions, by Laura Riding.  She was American and apparently, had a very complicated relationship with Robert Graves.  This excerpt was put on her gravestone but if anyone has the complete, amazing poem (Megan Crane, are you out there?) - then I'd love to read it.


Measure me by myselfAnd not by time or love or spaceOr beauty. Give me this last grace:That I may be on my low stoneA gage unto myself alone.I would not have these old faiths fallTo prove that I was nothing at all.