a North Oxford view

A very pretty view of an old stable block from my hotel window in Oxford, winter trees and classic North Oxford houses beyond.  It's strange to be here - not just Oxford, which is full of multiple layers of ghosts, but the hotel is at the end of the road where my mother had her flat - and, indeed, is where she used to stay before she bought the flat ... when I wrote a couple of days back about reading Mrs Dalloway on a bench in Oxford, I'm pretty certain that I was visiting her then.  But it's really the ghosts of past selves that are here, thickly.