The Door in the Wall

The above moth is a Brown Tail, which seems an odd choice of name, given it has a wonderful white fur ruff, rather than a brown tail.  We have had quite a few of them on the balcony so far.

The little girls (plus parents) arrived on Saturday afternoon, an afternoon of wind and rain and a storm on the Channel. They were so disappointed and stood at our window looking longingly at the beach.

The littlest one quickly recovered and colonised Captain Butterfly for an hour or so of computer games while we chatted over tea and cakes.

We woke up Sunday to more rain - and more news of people in such trouble on Rhodes, fleeing from wildfires in scorching heat.  We do need a government that can even this out - not too much rain, just enough; not too much heat, just enough. So that government can only be the heavenly one, the Kingdom of God.

I am re-reading H.G.Well's short stories, and had forgotten about The Door in the Wall.  Only surely that expresses a longing for our lost paradise, Eden? And yet H.G.Wells was not a believer at all.  I think it would be fair to say that he was basically atheistic.

But he did come to realise how short our lives are, and to lament it.  I have published this quote in my blog before, but it seems well worth repeating:

When he (Wells) was seventy years old, Literary London gathered together to celebrate, and he made a speech in which after thanking everyone for coming, he said:  "Yet all the time I will confess that the mellow brightness of this occasion is not without a shadow. I hate being seventy.... Tonight I am very much in the position of a little boy at a lovely party, who has been given quite a lot of jolly toys and who has spread his play about the floor.  Then comes his nurse, "Now Master Bertie," she says, "it's getting late. Time you began to put away your toys."  I don't in the least want to put away my toys..."

From Michael Coren's biography of H.G.Wells: "The Invisible Man  The Life and Liberties of H.G.Wells". 

I am - well - over seventy - well over seventy in fact, and find life more and more interesting every day that passes, as Wells clearly did. Isn't that just what we would and should be feeling if, as Genesis tells us, we were originally made to live forever on this wonderful planet?

My foot is still painful - whinge whinge - and I don't feel right. But how right can we expect to feel in our late seventies, damaged children of Adam that we are?  I don't know, as I have never been here before. 

Anyway, my heart sank to find Sunday morning grey and rainy too. Not on my behalf, as its the sort of weather I love - I can safely admit this here as my blog has a very small readership.  I realise that most people want sunshine all day and every day.

But it was very much not the sort of weather the girls and their parents wanted on their sea-side holiday. However - by breakfast time it was sunny and much calmer and remained so. What a relief.  As I am writing this blog, early on Monday morning, I am looking out on a cloudy sky. But the sea is still, and it  could well clear up and turn into a sunny seaside day.

Nute arrived Monday afternoon and we had a fish and chip supper together - little girls included.  Plus a fresh fruit salad and ice-cream. It is the first time we have entertained since lockdown I think, at least on that scale.

And I have my dining table back!  Col cleared it and polished it, which was a good thing as there were seven of us.