.. Mate of mine returned a book of Larkin's poems,

what a guy, Larkin that is, not my mate, he's just a

bum of a brummie. Got me to thinking how we  change

as time marches on, turn the page from boy to youth,

youth to young man and so on.

     I assume every one is aware of this metamorphosis, even 

on a simple level such as watching a film. Aware of how we go

 from identifying with, say James Dean in "Rebel"

 to Brando in "Last Tango in Paris"( no, not the pervy bits )

 to Sean Connery as Indies dad.

So how did I miss it all ? Me....? I'm just a boy .........

... life is good ...

... Driving to Runway Farm this morning, seven o'clock-ish,

along the Kenilworth Highway, hardly a breath of wind and,

a very English, damp, 'mizzley' morning. I noticed how lush

and green all the hedgerows were now, even the tall trees

are starting to wear their summer foliage again. Spring is

here and I've only just noticed.

      Lush and green except for one stretch of road, ( about

half a mile or so ) that is lined  soley with Hawthorn.

This now so heavy with Mayflower that it's boughs are almost

touching the grass verges below. Boughs so full with blossom

............... you would swear they were laiden with winter snow ...

KRO

".... wish I knew you before ...."

.. trouble is I did meet them, met them all, 

..just didn't know who they were ........

.. fourth time I tried to post this Amy, think you're

being a bit mean.....