The ebb of the year sees me trying to find Jane Pugin.
I am wandering the area of The Grange and St Augustine’s, and wondering what she saw, and knew, this ‘Grand Old Lady of Ramsgate’ so sadly forgotten now, eclipsed, of course, by Augustus Pugin’s genius.
As we’ve just passed another winter solstice and the days begin to grow their light once more I am recalled of the day – 22nd September 2017 – when I watched the sun slide towards Pegwell, the autumn equinox. I had a sense of her watching the watching.
Fanciful, yes. Poetry is.
So here’s a snippet of what is to become the poem ‘Equinox’ – as I try – want to try – over the next few months – to bring Mrs Jane Pugin back to some sort of life amidst the difficult glory of her / our times ….