Sixty years ago my parents were married, on Trafalgar Day. I never asked them why they chose this day, if indeed they did have any choice, or if my grandparents had proposed it as being an auspicious day for an admiral's daughter's wedding However it was arrived at, it cleverly rendered the date unforgettable.
The cult of Nelson was still honoured in my family. My mother claimed some distant kinship with him, and I have somewhere parts of a dinner service supposed to have belonged to the hero of the Nile. I have doubts as to the authenticity of this claim. In early nineteenth century England, items from Nelson's dinner service would be as common as fragments of the true cross in the early church.
After last night's frost the leaves on the mulberry tree have suddenly fallen and the courgette plants have collapsed into mush.
I shall honour today's memories with a swim in the sea before dusk.