Birlingham is a pretty little village in south Worcestershire, nested in the crook of the Avon. Contrasting somewhat with the similar sounding urban metropolis that sprawls around the M6, M5 and M42, between Ikea, the NEC and Hopwood services.
Back in 1870, the Vicar of Birlingham had the vision to plant some snowdrops. One hundred and fifty years later hundreds of thousands of snowdrops adorn the churchyard, attracting a stream of visitors during the opening months of the year.
A few tentative snowdrop blooms have appeared in our garden, evidence of a previous visit to Birlingham,so we were hoping there would be a good display at our destination.
It did not disappoint.
Delicate white blooms festooned the grounds with an extravagance that would delight any bride, but especially the Bride of Christ.
We purchased more of these Birlingham beauties, and hope that they thrive as well in our clay as they do in the fertile ground of a churchyard. I pray that we do not need to bury any bodies in our garden just to get the same effect!
Next stop was Eckington Wharf, where the willows watch on, as the Avon flows to its nearby confluence with the Severn at Tewkesbury.
We observed, as some kayakers launched their craft, and paddled off down the bright stream.
In Tewkesbury, we went first to Alison's Bookshop a treasure trove of literature to gladden the heart of any bookworm. I found myself in the poetry section and recalled reading that a poet I had not heard of, had died recently, and wondered if they had any of her work, as the quotations I had read had piqued my interest.
I sent my fellow traveller a text to see if she could enlighten me.
Right on cue, she appeared.
"'I just sent you a text, who was the woman who died?"
"What woman?"
"She was a poet. It was on facebook last week that she had died. I had never heard of her, and I wondered if there would be any of her work here."
Unfortunately, neither of us could remember her name, so I was not able to ascertain if any of her work was for sale.
All the best-laid plans...
We went to our current preferred cafe, and the food was of the usual high standard.
After lunch, we toured the charity shops. Our favourite was the vintage shop, where a customer was bemoaning the tendency of charity shops to buy in new stock to sell, putting them in direct competition with the other shops in the town centre.
I purchased a scarf ring for the extravagant sum of £3.
There are a significant number of empty shops in Tewkesbury. A sign on the window of Superdrug announced its imminent closure at the end of the month. Soon there will be another.
Just off the high street, we discovered an antique centre in an old chapel. The stock was vintage, but the prices were more tomorrows than yesterdays.My cash was spent, but they didn't take cards so I couldn't buy anything.
A couple of pieces of jewellery caught my eye, but not sufficiently to motivate me to go and find a cash point!
I am trying to be more discerning about my purchases and to be less impulsive. If the jewellery is still there next time I visit AND I have the cash, then I may consider buying them. If they had taken cards I would probably have purchased both there and then.
Later my fellow traveller remembered the name of the poet who died - Mary Oliver.
Unfortunately, I misheard or misremembered the name and then googled Alison Oliver and discovered the work of a children's author and got rather confused...
Blame it on the snowdrops...
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