Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Quiet Thoughts



Little Bunting is a very small village, with a population of around one hundred and eighty people, if we include the neighbouring hamlet of  Lush  Meadows.

Even small happenings send out a ripples which are felt by almost the whole community.     Well, we have been hit by a tsunami of sadness and loss.

One of the first people I got to know when we moved here, eleven years ago, was a farmer's wife.   She was in her early 70's then and we would watch with awe as she spent long days helping with the farming, driving tractors and trailers, harvesting and working the land with the rest of them.    I never saw her drive a car but usually saw her driving through the fields and surrounding lanes in a red tractor or, failing that, on her motorised pedal bike.

We got to know each other a little better as we talked and waited for the mobile library to arrive at the village hall;  we were determined to keep the van coming to the village, if at all possible.    We would continue to talk as we made our way home.    Her home being about a quarter of a mile further along from ours, our nearest neighbour on that side of the road.

A few days ago we learned that she had fallen from her tractor and has subsequently died.     Shock, disbelief, sadness, especially for her family.     The funeral is tomorrow.

At the other end of the life scale, and even more shocking, was the loss of a young man in his teens.     He was greatly loved but sorely troubled by dark clouds.   Unbearable sadness.  My heart goes out to his family.   At the weekend about sixty young people walked from the village to a place where he used to play, a place where he was carefree and happy.     We all hope that he is in a happier place.   

These two losses, plus a potential threat to the safety of someone we hold dear, have weighed heavily.    No doubt the sun will soon come out and life will trundle on.


Meanwhile, my back spasms subsided after ten days, thank goodness.    Thank you for all your good wishes, they were much appreciated!

This  morning I heard my first cuckoo of the year and I also discovered a big patch of wild strawberries - something I have been watching out for for many years.    

Life goes on.    

9 comments:

  1. First, so happy that your back spasms, are a thing of the past!!!!!

    And of course, so sad about both unhappy local happenings. Being a small area, hope you all can comfort the bereaved. Where in a big-city-type-place, hardly anyone would know. I hopes this can be of comfort, to all.

    Best wishes, for the safety, of someone you hold dear. That sounds the most worrisome. -sigh-sigh-sigh-

    The cuckoo, and the patch of wild strawberries!!!! Yes, yes, yes... Life goes on.

    Many gentle hugs,
    Luna Crone

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  2. I can see that your heart is heavy with these tragic losses, made worse by their suddenness. I feel for you.

    Glad to hear your back is mending and now you can stoop to pick those wild strawberries.

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  3. Yes, life goes on but it's often tinged with sadness such as you describe, both tragic cases, not deaths of people in old age, naturally and not from some awful disease or accident. The loss of someone so young is tragic, someone who hopefully had all his life ahead of him, but which has now been cut short, and the awful accident of the farmer's wife falling from her tractor. Even though I don't know these people I still feel sorry for them.
    I'm glad your back is causing fewer problems.
    My blog, after being down for a few days, is now up and running again.
    Margaret P

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  4. There is nothing more troubling than the loss of a young person, no matter the circumstances. I will keep his family in my thoughts and prayers. I`m so sorry about your close neighbour`s accident. What a tragedy for the family. On a better note I am glad you are feeling better. I hope your weather is good so you can take us along on your visits to your wood-lot. I really enjoy tagging along. Be well and remember to rest that back. Deb

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  5. Clouds do obscure the sun for a time & I am sorry to learn of the passing of these dear ones.

    I hope your back continues to heal & you can pick those strawberries!

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  6. Dear Luna, Marcia, Margaret, Deb, and Christine, I just typed a long reply and thanks to all of you. Unfortunately it seems to have disappeared into the ether...I wonder whether I waxed too lyrical about cuckoos, Bull Tits, blue skies, moonlight and the smell of the month of May. Probably. My back is stronger, I am actually managing to sleep again at nights, I can cope. xxx

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  7. I am sorry to hear of the loses and that you are suffering with your back. Death, young or old is always hard. It reminds you also of your own morality. Its sobering, frightening and it hurts. Be kind to yourself. Sol xx

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  8. O that is sad news to have happened, you can oly look to the future and remember the good times

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  9. Hello Sol, and Bill, Things move on - the first funeral was very well attended and very appropriate - a 'good' funeral. The second is next week.
    Difficult to get back into blogging and commenting right now, though I flit around and read all your blogs. Back soon.x

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