Early Morning Walk on West Hill

West Hill at sunrise

A Walk in the War Cloister at Winchester College

Winchester College War Cloister

There is a beautiful War Cloister at Winchester College where one can sit and contemplate the two World Wars and other British campaigns. There is most moving poem inscribed there, written by a young college man who was killed in 1944.

Polliciti Meliora

As one who, gazing on a vista
Of beauty, sees the clouds close in,
And turns his back in sorrow, hearing
The thunderclouds begin


So we, whose life was all before us,
Our hearts with sunlight filled,
Left in the hills our books and flowers,
Descended, and were killed.


Write on the stone no words of sadness -
Only the gladness due,
That we, who asked the most of living,
Knew how to give it too.

Frank Thompson (Winchester Coll, 1933-1938)

Late Afternoon Walks

The water meadows, St Cross

When I was a child, my father sometimes took me for a walk in the late afternoon. We would wander down through the pasture, not hurrying. He would tell me the names of the trees, point out a bird's nest so well hidden that the careless eye would never see it. Sometime, if the day was uncommonly warm, he would say to me 'Walk in my shadow, I'll be your shade'.


Even now, I recall how good it was to be a child, becoming aware of the natural order of life, watching the miracles of the changing seasons, marvelling at the mysteries that even my father couldn't explain. I walked with his safe in his shadow, protected by the shade he provided me.


One day we discovered that I had grown too tall to fit into his shadow. We didn't speak of it. We just both knew that the time had come for use to walk side by side - each casting his own shadow.


Later, I came to understand that the shadow of my father was as it was because of who he was: big enough, wise enough, strong enough to be my shelter till I was sufficiently strong to step outside and walk my own way.


My father gave me the best of himself - his shadow and his substance

JB via SW