just thinking

 just thinking...

packing up  and getting ready
back to the usual or change
on the horizon

all that lives, like seasons,
suffer alteration
every thing around rumbles
on, relentless

suffer, endure it
embrace it or exult
choose which we will
no choice - for chaos
is perpetual
and time
moves
on.

Weather

Changeable weather:-

a high sky, though the sun's still low in the south
a shine of sun rays through grey-white cloud
the snow's disappeared from the gullies of hills
the rain clouds will gather again in the west

Past and present

Sunday 19th Feb 

Old calendars and diaries are not just useful as reminders of birthdays, facts or events:  they also trigger memories and forgotten details, even if the words are sparse and prosaic.   Reminiscences need not be nostalgic indulgence or, worse, a misplaced hankering for the past;  they can  remind of pleasure and joys when perhaps the present is in need of such  positive emotions.

 

 

 

 

Finally it snows

Feb 18th

Snow, at last.  In fact stinging hail at the point we decided to go for a walk.  Higher on the hills there is a covering of snow, cleansing and refining the damp depressed grasses of winter and on the tops reflecting light back to the sun when it breaks spasmodically from the snow shower clouds.  These clouds roll with speed and unexpected ferocity to drench the unwary who do not look behind them for today's prevailing weather.

A dog, released from  the indoor captivity of the last few wet and miserable days, bounds joyously into the heather and grass to roll in the snow and hail that is lying between the tussocks.  The dog,  free of its confines, rushes to lap ice-cold water from streams, bogs and ditches full of the rains of the last few weeks.  A snow shower advances but the dog happily trots on, shaking flakes from its coat.  Only when the wind whips hail stones into its face does the dog consider it time to seek a place of shelter.

Yesterday (17th)  was a day to hunker down by the fire, to look at photos of summer bright plants from years ago.

Showers and rainbows and a few more flowers

Feb 16th  

A day of light showers, dropped from visibly finite dark clouds.
Sunshine surrounded and re-appeared from behind those clouds.
Rainbows flourished and faded, as the sun struck  drops of water.
Rainbows more oily, in puddles and streams from peat in the water.
And no wind blew.
Not for a moment or two.


My poor misguided dwarf daffodils are all in bud and one flower has bloomed.  I fear the north wind will bite and tear at the tender petals or frost freeze and break the fragile yellow.  Should it snow, they may be crushed but might survive that better than their full sized relations, which are also beginning to flutter glimpses of yellow from the green flower buds.


I love the way that that when flowers are allowed to revert to their wilder origins, like daffodils and primroses, they seem to have scents that their over-cultivated cousins have lost, even crocuses have a delicate aroma, though they do loose depth of colour and strength of texture in their petals and leaves.

water, weather and flowers

FEb 14th

 in praise of the soothing and pain-relieving effect of a warm water shower :)


FEb 15th
 The weather forecast has bad news for the fresh green daffodil shoots,  for the rock dove posturing for his lady and for the blackbird carrying a twig to a nest box… the winter may yet be to come: it could snow over the weekend.

The north wind doth blow
And the forecast says snow
But rain is more likely we know.

 
Admiring my valentine's gift: 
delicate white tipped with the palest pink, the tulips cast their lantern shapes against the wall in the light of the evening; 
carnations sprays in bud are light yellow tipped with an orange frill. 
Flowers hold in themselves such beauty that they lift the spirit through their appearance alone. 
The texture of petals, the freshness of leaves and stems brighten our world. 
When flowers have a scent, then they pervade our environment with richness.

Pebbles and Ponderings

Monday13 Feb


Ponderings

Yesterday I noted;  "the voice can reveal what words may not"                                                                 Make of that what you will but today I am thinking it is really like body language, a little bit more on the instinctive side than the words we choose, which ,unless we are unusually prone to unthinking outbursts, are so often calculated  and considered, filtered through a thought process.

Today's brain churnings have seen me mulling over elements.  No not the ones that Tom Leherer sang about "…of which the news had come to Harvard…." or had not been .."discavered.."
 I refer to environmental elements such as water for fish, 
Watching a bored collie dog transformed, energised and brought alive by the exercise of chasing a ball, I realised that such an animal, bred for work and activity, is like a fish out of water when it spends much of its day waiting around for the rare excitement of chasing the post van or other cars in an all but silent street.  A farmyard filled with animals needing to be rounded up,  herding sheep or cattle or "working" in some other capacity, even taking part in games, contests and then you see a different animal.
I fear it may be the same for some humans.  Urban living stimulates and energises some, but overwhelms others.  A rural idyll is bliss for the one but anathema to another. For many suburban living works as a way of getting a bit of both environments, yet there are those for whom this would be the ultimate worst scenario.
Perhaps like the collie it is simply necessary for there to be variety for most of us to survive, with a degree of comfort, in whatever place we find ourselves.  Getting the balance right for each individual can however be quite a juggling act.


2 Pebbles
 Watching:-

A blackbird, head to one side, listens to the worms.  Its yellow beak will strike down. To stay safe, the prey must burrow deep.

A bored collie shouts at the sheep straggling around a fenced field.
They look up but, ignoring the command, they do not flock together.
The collie considers whether to risk a reprimand by jumping the fence.
The sheep return to grazing while the collie, depressed, slumps back to sleep.


WOWH writing prompt : of use
 "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful"  so said William Morris who was very interested in design and also in its social implications.  Can the maxim be applied not only to things but to ideas?  Also who decides what is useful or beautiful?  Everyone living in the house?
That is surely the problem that is faced by many who end up with lots of "clutter".  Something may be "beautiful" because of associations (sentimental value) or it may be useful in the future, which is why some keep bits and pieces that others throw away or more responsibly recycle.