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Word From Wormingford

Richard on December 2nd, 2016

Our faces can unwittingly reveal our inner being, says Ronald Blythe WE USUALLY think of the spirit, or the soul, as being that part of us which is invisible, and which returns to God when we die. But the spirit, or the soul, is often seen. We catch glimpses of it in some unsuspecting face in […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 2 December 2016

Richard on November 25th, 2016

Ronald Blythe commends pottery as a philosophical occupation for humanity WHEN the Lord and his friends “took the cup”, it would most likely have been a clay cup, not the glorious vessel of the Arthurian legend. But beautiful all the same, like Brenda Green’s pottery. Her work fills the church, as does her voice. The cup […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 25 November 2016

Richard on November 18th, 2016

Ronald Blythe thinks of the lives of those named on a war memorial WHILE John, our Vicar, conducts the Remembrance service at the war memorial, my mind wanders. Who could the three Ernests named on it be? Where did they live? How did they die? They were born when The Importance of Being Earnest was being written. Their […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 18 November 2016

Richard on November 11th, 2016

Ronald Blythe considers the pathos of the Unknown Warrior THERE is no dwindling of the Remembrance Day congregation; no lessening of these Georgian elegiacs. My last year’s poppy lies in a drawer, and I recall how the live emblems went on blooming throughout the carnage of the Western Front. And how the nightingales went on singing, […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 11 November 2016

Richard on November 11th, 2016

Ronald Blythe thinks of a former companion on a trip to Scotland AT THIS time of the year, all kinds of readings and experiences come together. The first I remember was when I had just come back from Scotland, staying with friends at Kinloch Rannoch. This was, in fact, a retreat for a party of eight […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 4 November 2016

Richard on November 11th, 2016

Ronald Blythe waters his flowers, and feels guilt at neglecting his fruit trees IT SEEMS an odd thing to do in October, but I have just watered the geraniums and roses which grow in tubs on the terrace, the water having been left over from some other task. It arrives at the old farmhouse from a […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 28 October 2016

Richard on October 21st, 2016

Ronald Blythe recalls cycle rides as a boy, splashing through puddles IT IS six in the morning. It is still dark, and raining steadily. The horses will be huddled beneath the tall hedge, their coats shining; the cats will be fast asleep in each other’s paws; the birds will be silent. Yesterday, an old friend and […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 21 October 2016

Richard on October 14th, 2016

The relic of a long-dead archbishop proved useful to a young Ronald Blythe SO HULL proclaims itself a city of culture. But how could it not be? Every city is a city of culture; every town a town of culture; every village a village of culture. How could they not be? I do not know […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 14 October 2016

Richard on October 7th, 2016

Ronald Blythe thinks of a Hardy novel, and of walks on Cornish cliffs NEXT Sunday is harvest evensong, the churchwarden Meriel says. I must tell my old farmhouse. There is so little to remind it of its ancient purpose: the barns, the stackyard, the threshing floor. Just my garden and the tall ash trees which were […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 7 October 2016

Richard on October 7th, 2016

The changing season leads Ronald Blythe to think of two artists THERE are degrees of summer passing and of autumn arriving, subtle though they can be. Walking in the garden early, there are a few fresh leaves on the grass, but, at the same time, a promising warmth. I remember that it is a quarter day, when […]

Continue reading about Word from Wormingford 30 September 2016