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I wake and the light of this fine day edges round the curtain. The birds have chorused and my left foot lies cold outside the sheets. Standing in my nightgown I draw the curtains and look out at my garden. Let me pad downstairs, open the front door and walk brief steps to the arbour of ferns and shells. From a cane chair I shall view my private corner with its tiny pool and privet hedge: whilst there is still a little dew; whilst the cobwebs still glisten; whilst there is no wind, just a grumble of the surf at Porth Neigwl, the sound my father makes dozing over his paper. Miniature, enclosed, protected I will place my thoughts in this dolls’ house garden, amongst the dank, dark shadows of its many rooms, its parterred spaces. You don’t walk in this garden; you take a step . . . and you are elsewhere. Take three steps and you are quite lost. I hear the kitchen door bang in the manor house, Meriel is taking breakfast to my sisters. I think I shall stay here a moment longer.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 2:33 AM UTC
Honora Keating surveys her garden at Plas yn Rhiw
I wake and the light of this fine day edges round the curtain. The birds have chorused and my left foot lies cold outside the sheets. Standing in my nightgown I draw the curtains and look out at my garden. Let me pad downstairs, open the front door and walk brief steps to the arbour of ferns and shells. From a cane chair I shall view my private corner with its tiny pool and privet hedge: whilst there is still a little dew; whilst the cobwebs still glisten; whilst there is no wind, just a grumble of the surf at Porth Neigwl, the sound my father makes dozing over his paper. Miniature, enclosed, protected I will place my thoughts in this dolls’ house garden, amongst the dank, dark shadows of its many rooms, its parterred spaces. You don’t walk in this garden; you take a step . . . and you are elsewhere. Take three steps and you are quite lost. I hear the kitchen door bang in the manor house, Meriel is taking breakfast to my sisters. I think I shall stay here a moment longer.
Plas yn Rhiw is an ancient manor house in North Wales. It is situated on the Lyn Peninsula and overlooks the vast bay of Hell's Mouth. The Keating sisters restored the house and Honora created its beautiful Arts & Crafts garden. The poet R.S.Thomas and architect Clough William Ellis were friends and frequent visitors.
nigel-morgan
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 2:33 AM UTC
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