My youngest aunt traveled to India at the age of two in 1929. She and her mother joined her father, a mining engineer. There followed four years as a child of the British Raj. Returning to England in 1933 she joined her sisters at boarding school and did not see her parents again for several years. This is her account of her life in India as a small child.
Leaving my frozen valley I went down to Porthcurno to look at sunlit winter waves. Strewn on the sand and tossed in the foam were roses. Who consigned them to the waves and why I do not know. They were an incongruous but beautiful addition to the afternoon.
Fulfilling a long held ambition, I visited the Huangshan Mountains in China when the Magnolias were in flower. The inspiration for traditional Chinese landscape painting, we experienced the clouds wrapping around us, then drifting away to reveal layer upon layer of sculpted rocks hung with pine trees. This ephemeral experience of shifting forms continued as we walked; and remains a haunting memory of perfect beauty.
My mother, reflecting in old age on her young life in Cornwall and the experiences that formed her as artist and gardener. Summers in Sennen Cove and gardens her mother created. Tracing her innate creativity through the making of dollshouses, shared by a father she hardly knew. With the passing of generations oral history is so swiftly lost. This is a fragment from the past; part of family's history recorded on a summer's day in a garden full of flowers.