A rare incursion

It's rarely that I go out of my way to invite people into my home. Too much work and a disinclination for other people's company. But I had a good gut instinct about my recent visitors - both bloggers I've come to know - and my gut, in all its glory, is rarely wrong. We planned it weeks in advance so that we could acclimatise ourselves to the idea, although we all admitted to a few stressy nerves come the great day. However we all seemed to slot together as naturally as if we had been waiting for each other. And so it was that Hen and LiZZie and I spent a glorious day together. Kind LiZZie had bought gift bags - suncatchers of her own creating, lovely greens for nature loving Hen and I. And eggs for me, knowing my predilection for them.






I don't think we stopped talking, laughing and occasionally crying, all day. I took them over to 'my' woods, my refuge and second home.




Hen is one of those useful people (unlike me) who stop every so often and point out a little green thing, naming it and relating its special properties. I now have four more species I can show off to Andy and pretend I am very knowledgeable indeed (unless he is reading this, in which case I am rumbled). I had read that our woods are the last remnant of a huge ancient woodland which spread for miles, but she confirmed it by identifying wood sorrel, a sweet little shamrocky thing which I'd walked past without thinking, and is a typical sign of old woods. It explains the special atmosphere I always feel there.




Appropriately enough, as we returned to the car, a rainbow appeared - very faintly - against the rainclouds. We managed to dodge the downpour and returned home for soup and soda bread. We chatted non-stop until Andy returned home from work and we realised it was 6pm. I have rarely met people I felt so instantly comfortable with, and with whom I could be completely myself. When shall we three meet again? Soon, I hope.