After a jolly nice scone with coffee at an Edinburgh garden centre, and a good blether with Rosemary and Susan, I was reminded of this lovely poem by D H Lawrence.
Not every man has gentians in his house
in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime torch-like with the smoking blueness
of Pluto’s gloom,
ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto’s dark-
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter’s pale lamps
give off light,
lead me then, lead me the way.
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of a flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on
even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted
to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice
or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense
among the splendour of torches of darkness, shedding
darkness on the lost bride and her groom.
Mum grew alpines, including gentians, with a wee bit success; Sherry loved the gentians because they reminded her of so many trips to the Matterhorn and Rosemary liked the one Mum called a periwinkle. Indeed, she recently gave me a plant too. I have called it periwinkle for so long that I have to cudgel my brain to come up with the correct name which I think is Lithodora? Anyway, it means “stone gift” which would seem appropriate!
Another work in stone below, a few weeks ago I was on a mission to obtain various articles via the legendary charity shops in Stockbridge when I passed by this edifice I have not noticed before.
Above a shot of the bridges taken from the high up layby between Aberdour and Burntisland. At least one member of the family will be able to walk over the new Queensferry Crossing on the open weekend, before QEII arrives to sanction the moniker, and we look forward to seeing his pictures of that event. I hope that we manage to drive across on the first day.
Lastly I thought of stone and blue together and arrived at diamond, from an old story in which a bloke went mining for those stones in Africa, hit a layer of impenetrable blue rock and gave up, but not before chopping out a slab to carry around with him to remind himself of his hubris. The sun weakened the stone slab over the years, and of course it cracked open to reveal a giant stone of many carats. The word diamond comes from Ancient Greek ἀδάμας – adámas “unbreakable” hence adamant.