Last night brought the first deep frost of the year. With the morning sun, our surroundings shone with an ethereal beauty. Jack Frost had been busy overnight.
Keats’ description of Autumn brings to mind a rich image and a distinct feeling, with the growing chill in the air, the earthy scent of leaves underfoot and the rich colours of the trees, hedgerows and fields.
The Grand Union Canal runs behind the wall at the southern boundary of the site. It was not until I was on our boat going up the Hanwell flight that I noticed the bricked-up entrance to the asylum’s own docks, where barges delivered coal and took away surplus produce for sale.
How can those stretches of the canal which have become no-go areas be reclaimed as places for everyone to enjoy and benefit from? CRT believe that it is possible. Henny Pearmain asks how boaters can help in this task.
I hope that as we travel, we will meet more women who are happy with having oily hands and paint-covered trousers. I know that I am loving the learning and I am growing in confidence
