The accidental finding

By woodpeckers

Sabrina and the Poet

Oswestry today, the home town of the first world war poet Wilfred Owen. Poor man, he was injured during the war and sent to recuperate at Craiglockhart near Edinburgh, then returned to France, where he was killed just one  week before the Armistice was signed in November 1918. There is a new statue to him in the park in Oswestry, erected in 2018, and a Wetherspoon's pub named after him. D and I mooched around the market hall, then followed a truncated walking trail around the town. D liked a group of musicians busking in the street, playing old jazz standards, so we stopped and watched them for a while. Oswestry is not many miles from Wales, and has a border town feel, with some Welsh street names.

In Shrewsbury, we made our way to the river Severn (the Romans called it/her Sabrina) and had a coffee and picnic by the quayside, so we could take a short cruise. This turned out to be delightful, with good seating and laconic commentary on the return journey from English Bridge to Welsh Bridge. The sun even shone on us!

As we still had some time left, we had another coffee in an old church, where I found an ancient book written by my godmother's husband, one Phillip Gibbs. Then we wandered up to the main square and museum, browsed a bit and carried on in this vein until we caught up with the coach. We couldn't go anywhere very far, because D can only walk slowly and is not at all steady on his feet.  
Shrewsbury is much larger than I expected. It's the main town of Shropshire, a fact I hadn't taken on board until today. Like Stroud, it's hilly, but a great deal larger and busier.

Back at the hotel, there was a quiz tonight. I almost won one round, but it went to a tie-break and I lost. Sat in the bar for some time with D afterwards, but eventually retired to my room to watch the Smithsonian channel (relaxing images of animals in the Andes) and chat online with one of my cousins about life  and old acquaintances in Fort William.

Ill finish with one of Wilfred Owen's poems. It seems appropriate for today's visit, and especially now that a war is raging in Europe once more.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47393/anthem-for-doomed-youth

Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.