Simple things

It is said that familiarity breeds contempt.  I often wonder if the people who live in beautiful towns like this even realise how fortunate they are to have so much history and beauty as part of their lives.

I travel by bus to Westbury in Bristol and the entire shopping area is decorated with flower baskets and masses of colour.  Each basket vying with its neighbour for attention.  Back home in Knysna, in South Africa, someone will have removed the baskets and sold them in a suburb.  Even the plants are pulled from the pots they are planted in, to be traded for a few Rand.

As is so often the case, the residents or shoppers in Westbury would only miss the beauty once it was no longer there.

I am drawn to the bakery. The home made loaves almost asking to be bought and taken home and my taste buds already anticipating the flavours of cheese , cold meats, sweet chilli sauce and lettuce. Not to mention the smooth delight of filter coffee with cream and sugar.

I could offer the bakery owner my expertise and bake pan cakes for the patrons.  The taste of cinnamon sugar and lemon on a freshly baked crepe being addictive.  Instead I buy the bread and head home with my buss pass and a free ride home.

Tomorrow I will take a different bus, to a different destination and revel in another feast for my eyes.  Not enough days left to indulge the senses. Cakes, coffee, tea with scones, strawberry jam and thick rich cream. Need to walk more down the glorious  lanes of trees.  Watch the ever present ladies with their dogs. What a joy it is to live in England in the summer.


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