The Loneliness of the Land-locked Lady

I love Wiltshire and its soft green curves. I love living here. But that is only most of the time. If the temperature gets above 73 Farenheit then I start agitating for the sea. Yesterday and today were terrible for me. I lay outside on my bit of concrete in my bikini and looked at the road atlas for hours and hours, and, as I do every summer, looked at every bit of seaside available from Wiltshire. Each day I got up too late to make the dawn start that is necessary to avoid crowds and parking problems. Each day I felt like a prisoner.

There are very few places for old ladies to walk in Wiltshire. (Polly is not feeling like a rock chick today). Even the Ridgeway path can be lonesome. I am a bit sick of walking around Avebury or Coate Water.

This year I think I have made the decision to leave this place when I retire. Get to the sea. Nothing soothes me like the sound of the waves. I have driven for hours many many times over the last few summers just to be by the waves, gentle at the Channel, wilder on the Cornish coast. How I am going to leave my garden, the trees that I planted and my view to die for will be another problem. But every day I will be able to walk by the sea, and drive easily to different bits of sea.

I broke the spell by going for a walk down my own boring lane, at 6.00, just to look up and see the sky. There was a grey wagtail following the bull round the field. I haven't seen one for about twelve years here, so I felt enriched by this, and as if the day had been redeemed.

Grey Wagtail

There was a huge pile of horseshit in the lane and I watched car after car swerving round it. So I went home and got a bucket and shovel and lugged it home. Now I have the hose on a rose that I planted to symbolise a couple who are my two dearest friends; it is called Sharifa Asma -- the rose that the Persians made attar of roses out of.





It is so neglected it had one fading rose on it, so I pulled that off and now have the petals here in a saucer to scent the room. I am going to pull up the weeds around it when I have typed this, and then put the horse shit on it. This symbolises lonely Polly nurturing her friendships, as there seems little else she can do right now. She's redeemed the day. Something's got to give.

Sharifa Asma