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Flew in to England this morning. I am sitting in an English country garden in Aldenham, Hertfordshire on a gorgeous 'picture-postcard' hot summer's day. The quaint home is owned by Sitaram and his wife Vibha, in this village near Radlett and Letchmore Heath.
I am sure there is a history to the place; of course all of England is oozing with it. As I sit cross-legged on the lawn quietly chanting my daily mantras, distant village church bells call the pious to Sunday prayers. A soft breeze blows gentle waves through the top of a gigantic elm tree. A couple of shiny, well-groomed horses topped with elegant riders clop-clop on cobbled streets nearby. A lone rabbit hops out from under a blackberry bush, an enormous bumble-bee vibrates amidst pollen-laden roses, and a thrush lands on a Hollyhock in full bloom.
The smells and sights and sounds evoke strong childhood memories, growing up in England, of bright, drawn-out warm summer evenings, the smell of honeysuckle and newly-mown grass.
But where is that boyhood body? It only exists in memory, yet I am still here.
Posted by Kurma on 19/6/05; 10:15:24 PM
from the Travel dept.
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Sunday, June 19, 2005
