Yesterday we wandered through Kew Gardens, taking 3 or 4 hours to explore the Temperate House, the Princess of Wales Conservatory, the Treetop Walk, stopping to read the identification markers on the trees: Turner’s Oak, a huge Pinus contorta (ours!), chestnuts, English Oaks, Corsican pines,any of them filled with birds: magpies, Eurasian jays, and even brilliant green parakeets. I was last at Kew in 1976 and wonder if I am remembering things in a dreamy haze because I didn’t see the western red cedars I recall (and touched in honour of Emily Carr who’d also sought them out). This was a bus ride from where I lived in Wimbledon and I came on my days off, visiting the gardens by day and then buying cheap theatre tickets in the gods for the evenings. I once saw Glenda Jackson in the play Stevie, based on the life of the poet Stevie Smith (not waving but drowning). And today we begin the long journey home.
...Theresa Kishkan 
Lovely! I was just thinking, the other day, of reading a Stevie Smith too-long-untouched on my shelves.
She’s worth reading — and re-reading!