Today’s images are linked by featuring edges of various types. I never saw the wonderfully scenic, 300 year old Sycamore Gap tree which has been felled this week by vandals with a chainsaw, but I recently encountered the word ‘solastalgia’ which expresses the shock of the thousands of people who loved this tree. Along similar lines to nostalgia, solastalgia is the distress we feel when much-loved surroundings are altered and we are powerless to do anything about it. It’s a form of homesickness where we are at home, but sick because our home is no longer the same.
In contrast, my fallen tree with splintered edges is an unsung one. I fully feel the outrage about Sycamore Gap, but while it was leading the headlines, the UK’s State of Nature Report 2023 was quietly published, with little attention paid to its reminder that ‘the UK is now one of the most nature-depleted countries on Earth.’
So if you sense melancholy in some of the edges I have chosen for this week’s challenge, give me a pass. I promise there will be some cheery ones too.
In an ideal world, I would rather use my blog to celebrate than condemn. When I go to flower shows, of course I see things I do not like, but I typically share the parts that give me pleasure. As I am feeling nowty, I’m going to break my rule.
While this garden had some splendid touches, looking back, all I remember is being in a crowd of polite people trying to peer into it in turn from a few small gaps around the edges. A garden we could not enter, like so many of today’s show gardens, it struck me as a corporate garden, designed for corporate reasons. The show is one I enjoy, but it had been a long journey from home, had not been cheap to enter, and the show gardens were screened by officials trying to make sure nobody stepped in the wrong place. Supposed, in the main, to be resilient gardens, they were not considered visitor-proof.
In contrast, the show garden I remember most fondly from 2023 is one designed to promote a mental health charity at the more local Southport Flower Show. Everyone was welcome to go in and mingle, to sit down if they could find a free seat, and even to lounge on a modern four poster bed. I’ll include a picture in a future post.
This is the edge of the headstone on Sylvia Plath’s grave which is in the graveyard of a small, high village, Heptonstall, on the edge of moorland. The poet’s name has been partially scratched off and plastic biros have been left (there were several in the grave itself). She would need paper too, but the wet climate of the north forbade that. Her grave seemed to say more about fame than about her – Shakespeare’s ‘Blest be the man that spares these stones’ seemed prescient.
Half-hidden in the garden of a row of terraces nearby, an elderly women had watched in silence as we passed, not responding to our nod. She knew where we were going and I wondered if she thought we might intend the grave harm. Seeing her, I suddenly imagined that Sylvia had not died, but had withdrawn and was watching the world from the edge, writing for her own satisfaction.
Let’s move on. You (and I) have made it through my nowty section and I hope you’ll enjoy the rest. The next few show Hebden Bridge in Yorkshire, a quirky northern town known for its ability to attract creative people. Its gardens on the edge of the pavement put all the alley-style show gardens I’ve ever seen in the shade.
Here’s the edge of a house overlooking a river. I find I can’t pinpoint what makes it look stylish. Perhaps the feeling of the present coexisting with another time – several different times?
Each house has some mark of creativity, of thinking outside the box, such as this doorstep made from broken tiles.
It would have been so easy to share more edges from Hebden Bridge, but I’m saving the rest for a rainy day.
On second thoughts, just one more, looking over the edge to the other side of the valley.
Now something completely different: the plant version of a colony of sunbathing seals. The edge connection? Well, some of the edges are a bit prickly. Does that count?
Planting flowers in wellington boots has long been a craze, but these are some of the best I’ve seen and I liked the red, white and blue. I don’t know how long they’ll last, but while they do, they’re a great way to jazz up the edge of a shop. My apologies to those who’d have rather seen the sweeties!
This is the splendid edge of a wooden harvest-themed plaque. Did you spot the sleeping mouse? It’ll grant you it’s tricky if you’re reading on a phone.
Next, a modern water feature with the pretty little geraniums.
I should perhaps have saved my last for a post of its own as it’s very atmospheric, but the eeriness adds to my mixed bag and in a way, it brings us full circle. Sun flooding in from the edge of misty woodland helps me understand why ancient Britons saw magic everywhere.
You might not see the same thing, but I see a giant, gowned lady of the woods, arms outstretched, and the awe of the natural world. This was an ordinary afternoon, in an ordinary wood, in an ordinary town, and yet…
Susan Rushton 
Well, I got past the grumpy stuff and then you made me smile, so thanks for that, Susan. Show gardens are definitely a bit too Smart Alec these days. They feel like they’re for the designer but not to share. Unlike Hebden Bridge. I love that shot looking down. And the mosaic doorstep. Wonder if I could dance in those wellies?
Dancing in the wellies would be deterred during the village in bloom event, but after the flowers have gone, why not? There are enough for a whole Morris dancing team, although they wouldn’t get the tapping and jingling they need.
I can jingle 🤣🩷
Pockets full of coins, eh? Change from those cakes, no doubt. Knutsford has plenty of tea rooms.
It’s a thing here. You always have too much change or none! We still use real money as well as cards 🤗💙
Somehow it seems fitting that the State of Nature Report 2023 should come out at the same time as the awful felling of that beautiful tree. Time we began to treat nature with the respect it deserves! That gowned lady of the woods may not be very happy with us…
Yes, you’re right. It’s hard to think she would be.
Thank you for “solastalgia” and “nowty”! Brand-new words for me! Always for me there is a place for melancholy. We feel what we feel, and sometimes that’s what we have to give words to. I liked it all, and I think the connecting thread of edge was worked nicely. I loved the sunbathing seals, and, yes, their bristles most certainly count as edges! I had to look hard for that mouse, and I’m not even on my phone. The last image, of the sun through the woods, is a beauty. It’s the “solace” part of “solastalgia.” The deliberate felling of that sycamore took my breath away. It isn’t just that tree; it’s the intentional destruction of so much. I’m very sorry about the report for the UK.
I explained (not as concisely as I ought to have) how to pronounce the latter in a comment to bowlandrambler above. ‘Melancholy’ has ‘holy’ in it – we do not approach the rapture of the wild world without a little of it. I’m glad you approved of the green seals and the sun picture.
Fabulous. thank you for the grumpy stuff. solastalgia is a word I havent heard, but definitely felt it with the 300 year old sycamore tree. Quite frankly pisses me off. and I am sorry for our tree. I laughed at the possibility that Plath might just be the elderly woman in the house.
A creative a wonderful post as always. The boots sure generated a smile.
I’m glad you’re with me on this. I was glad too to hear of solastalgia – it is good to have a diagnosis for the feeling.
Lovely Susan. I wonder if the wellies are linked together. Imagine having to take them in and out every day. The fungi is my favourite. Solastalgia is a good word 🙂
It is possible they would have been left outside. Knutsford is a place where you could probably hope to get away with that. Otherwise a carrying system would be very useful. I can see you are a practical thinker.
and the town is full of kids and mischief 24/7
The setting sun is mesmerizing. Thank you for all the photos. I just cannot understand how people can cut trees for their fun. As it is so many are being destroyed in the name of development. Regards, Lakshmi
It wouldn’t be fun for me either. If the idea is to fit more people in, should builders be incentivised to build affordable homes among greenery rather than new homes with a large footprint in acres of concrete?
You have produced a splendid post on this prompt. I really liked the top edge of Sylvia Plath’s gravestone, and the sleeping mouse puzzle. Beginning with the contrast between the unsung twisted tree and the vandalised sycamore I can empathise with.
Thanks, Derrick. Your robin challenges might have inspired me.
🙂
Beautiful post Susan, with lots to ponder on. Like you I was both upset by the felling of the Sycamore Gap tree but also upset that people seem to ignore the fact that we’re losing so many trees.
I was interested to see Sylvia Plath’s headstone. From what I can tell, someone has tried to remove ‘Hughes’ from her name as if they want to obliterate her marriage? And Hebden Bridge looks very quirky, perfect for photography. We’ll have to get ourselves there one day!
Yes, you’re right about the scratches. ‘Hughes’ has been removed repeatedly. I think you will like Hebden Bridge if you allow time to wander. Don’t miss the street near one of the allotments with different coloured drainpipes. It made me wish our street had them. The Handmade Parade is great for photography.
Thanks for the tips 🙂
Wonderful post with so much to inspire and think. The Sycamore Tree was one of those things that makes me not have much hope for humanity. Almost as bad than doing it is actually not caring. Last one is pure magic. Thank you.
I believe that nature should be given a voice in British politics – ideally though a third parliament. Failing that idea, which I day say the existing bodies would not like, if every human was allowed a second vote on a relevant issue on behalf of nature on every election ballot, we’d see rapid changes. British people would stand up for nature if there was means to do it and they were informed of the issues and options then asked their opinion.
Growing up, I heard a lot of condemnation of the loss of other people’s rainforests, but never a word about the loss of our own temperate rainforests. I was very doubtful that we had any, even when my sweetheart pointed out were were standing in a tiny remnant of it.
I share your sadness about the Sycamore Tree. Environmental terrorism is a horror. I’ll never understand it. You really moved us through a variety of moods in your post–ending with magic. I love it, Susan. Thanks for the journey and sharing your edges!
Thanks for hosting, and for setting such an open and interesting challenge.
I’ve got you to thank for my ‘edge’ post. Thanks for the stimulus! https://margaret21.com/2023/10/05/britain-on-the-edge/
My pleasure!
Fab collection.
Love Fungi!