Too late, too late…

Aswarby church
On Friday I went to a pottery class at The End Room studio, about 20 minutes drive from Heckington. On the way, on a whim, I took a turning off the dull and dangerous A15 (Peterborough to Bourne, Sleaford, Lincoln and the Humber Bridge) and found myself in another world: the tiny village of Aswarby with its lovely church bathed in afternoon sun. But before I could get my camera out, the sun slipped behind a cloud – so you can’t see it in the picture.

I’m getting used to the contrast between A-roads busy with lorries trundling food to the rest of the country and quiet villages just round the corner. Very different from Heckington these, often with no shop, no community building except the church; but so beautiful. There are huge old trees in stretches of greensward, sheep or cattle quietly grazing and, if you’re lucky, golden sunlight over everything.

I left the pottery in the village of Newton after four in the afternoon when the last rays of sun lit up the village church like a spotlight. More beautiful still was the same light falling on grass through a thorn hedge- but I was too slow again, too late to capture it.

‘Too late,’ my mum used to say, throughout my childhood, ‘too late, saddest words in the English language.’ Seems to be a quote from a character in Evelyn Waugh’s Decline and Fall, but don’t know if he had it from somewhere before that.

Why so sad? Why so hard to let go of what is past, of things over which we have no control – like the chancy fall of light from one moment to the next?

Was the light any the less because I couldn’t grab it, bring it here to show you? Ho hum, enough musing for a Monday morning!

Newton church

2 thoughts on “Too late, too late…

  1. “Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
    The saddest these: it might have been…” (Sir Walter Scott).

    But I shall have a go at tracking down your mother’s “Too late” quote – that’s the sort of quest I enjoy. “Too late” are indeed rather sad words; on his deathbed, Proust asked for some beer to be fetched for him from the Ritz and then remarked, “It will come too late – like everything else”. (It did.)

    Dear me! I have made this a gloomful post! But your photos are still rather beautiful…

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