A post in pictures: Gorgeous Bath

Pulteney Bridge in Bath, UK - one of the grandest bridges in the world

I was watching Persuasion the other day while folding laundry, and as Anne and the Admiral strolled through Bath, I suddenly recognized a fine old landmark.

"Hey, I've been next to that tree," I thought. "I took its picture!"

Then, suddenly, I was back in beautiful Bath with my good friend Holly, posing for a picture on Pulteney Bridge over the River Avon, delighting again in the graceful curve of the Royal Crescent, relishing the incredible buns in the oldest house there, Sally Lunn's Historic Eating House, getting chills of excitement as I walked above ancient water systems at the Roman Baths, and shopping near the gorgeous Bath Abbey constructed of that most famous limestone, Bath stone.

Holly and I visited Bath in April 2015, enjoying fine weather the entire time in a town where one of our favorite authors, Jane Austen, set two of her novels and where Austen herself lived for about five years.

I remember my brother saying. "All women are like, 'Ooooooh, Bath!', and men are like, 'Phflut, Bath.'"

What does my brother know? After all, does not Bath have the Jane Austen Centre? - a lovely place in which I wrote a love letter to my man with an old fashioned quill and blotter? (He didn't even appreciate the thought and effort; my note wasn't amorous enough!)

My nose looks enormous in the picture, but I don't even mind. I'm in Bath!

Is it not a charming place where my friend and I enjoyed a scrumptious tea at The Regency Tea Room (upstairs at the Jane Austen Centre) before posing elegantly with Mr Darcy?

How about the Roman Baths, constructed in 70 A.D. and smelling of and draining history?

(Though I wasn't tempted to plunge into that water as the Romans routinely did, I thrilled to walk across ancient stones upon which they trod, to view rooms, drains and ancient artifacts that they utilized, and to learn of the temple they once erected there to the goddess Sulis Minerva.

I must say, however, that the mineral water, such as Jane Austen and her friends would have enjoyed in the Pump Room, tasted terrible.)

Is Bath not the only place to boast the gorgeous Royal Crescent, completed in 1775 and designed by John Wood the Younger to give the growing Georgian middle class elegant town living in terraced houses?

And that fine old establishment that serves the most heavenly buns, Sally Lunn's?

Indeed, I defy my big brother. Bath is one of most beautiful places in the world with some of the lovliest architecture, and I - lucky girl! - got to experience it firsthand

As I strolled along the Royal Crescent two Aprils ago, intoxicated by its romance and history, I imagined taking my handsome husband to the luxury hotel that now occupies numbers 15 and 16 on a romantic vacation someday.

It would be just like a Jane Austen novel.

Maybe a little more amorous.

England Anthology: Of All the Trees I've Known Before...

My friend Holly wanted to have her picture taken in art havens and historical spots while in England. I loved those, too, but I also wanted to pose with trees.

I went all over England hugging trees. It wasn't planned really, but I fell in love - not with one but with several of them. Being a bonafide tree hugger and whisperer, I haven't really noticed that my whispering or hugging makes a difference to them, but perhaps that's because, except for a few special trees in my life, I tend to love and leave them.

I couldn't really get my arms around this burly guy, but immune as I am to most forms of self-inflicted embarrassment, I tried. He was on the beautiful grounds at Leed's Castle. I had a terrible virus that day. I feel sorry for any human who came along after me to hug him. I'm sure there were several.

These trees seemed a bit delicate, like elven trees. I didn't embrace them. But this picture? I'm no photographer, but I am in love with this image for some reason, technically good or not. There were a fair amount of people touring the castle grounds that day, but this memory takes me to the English countryside all by myself, soaking in the peaceful sounds of nature, possibly taking a nap in the sunshine, and waking up to play with wild rabbits.

There were other trees that had a superb sense of place in a different sense, city dwellers. They were a little bit like Londoners, though: aloof.

 

Big Ben artfully obscured - by the tree, not the photographer

 

The three guardians of Westminster Abbey

The below tree was in Bath. That alone was reason enough to hug it under its towering canopy. I was ebullient that day, savoring the passing moments, fully cognizant of my good fortune, appreciative of my glorious surroundings.

 

It was perhaps the friendliest-looking tree in arguably the loveliest spot, Royal Victoria Park with views of the majestic Royal Crescent. I would live there if at all possible.

 

 

And speaking of the Royal Crescent in Bath, Somerset, there was a very old magnolia tree adorning the front of the Royal Crescent Hotel and Spa.

 

 

I could not afford to stay there, but I could admire the tree.

 

Another tree of Bath, simultaneously down to earth and majestic

 

Ah, the simple and priceless joys of nature.