TBTE

East Mersea, with my elder daughter and the dog. Low tide - not a drop of sea in sight!





Back at West Mersea as the sun went down.

A heart. Up in the clouds.

A chilly evening after a windy day. Smell of woodsmoke wafting through the hollyhocks in the Lane. Halyards clanking. A piano playing in a tiny white cottage.

How richly glows the water's breast
Before us, tinged with evening hues,
While, facing thus the crimson west,
The boat her silent course pursues!
And see how dark the backward stream!
A little moment past so smiling!
And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
Some other loiterers beguiling.

Such views the youthful Bard allure;
But, heedless of the following gloom,
He deems their colours shall endure
Till peace go with him to the tomb.--
And let him nurse his fond deceit,
And what if he must die in sorrow!
Who would not cherish dreams so sweet,
Though grief and pain may come to-morrow?

'Lines Written While Sailing In A Boat At Evening'
William Wordsworth