Black the day of damp and squally rain
though the grass sea is still
and only the trees complain
of creaking joints
and about the house
a constant twitter of scavengers
bright-winged bright-tongued darting
from rose hips to the sad-leafed hornbeam.
Yet though the bird-mist colours
a wreath of red-blooded feathered life
black is still the cloud leaking its bellied rain
into the furrows
and the world sighs
between the loss of the sun
and the birthing of unseen roots.
Ramblings of an Irish ecologist and gardener
Poetry of a changing Earth. The grief is real--so is the hope.
Inspiring others through the written word, fictional blurbs & documenting my writing process from scratch.
occasional musings of an itinerant seanchaí polishing his craft online
The Things That Are In My Head.
offbeat words for you...
Just writing what's on my mind
AS HUMILDES OPINIÕES DE UMA MULHER DE CORAGEM QUE DIZ SIM À VIDA!
And so it goes...
My journey through photography
Inspiration and Spirituality **Award Free**
≈ fictionalpaper / piccoloscissors / creativeglue ≈
Philosophy is all about being curious, asking basic questions. And it can be fun!
Not a literary magazine for ordinary times, but a journal for an exceptional one. Writing the pandemic, together. Image, Somewhere in Time by Hengki Lee: Instagram @hengki_lee
Running in the slow lane
It started as a 366 - now a regular Photoblog- just for the love of taking photos and sharing them.
I'll talk you'll talk we'll talk
Promoting mindful living
A r t w o r k . . . f r o m . . . . . . H a m b u r g . . . . . . . . . . . . . G e r m a n y
October and November 2019
"Words are all we have" Samuel Beckett.
sharing the stories of interconnection
Jottings of a Storyhound
Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
lines that aim to be
And then I stop and sit and eat.
Perfect description of this time of year. I love that last stanza.
It’s raining here–grey and dreary.
Thank you 🙂 It’s a miserable time and too cold!
You’re welcome. Cold and damp here. My husband took a long hot shower when he got home at noon from his part-time job working on a golf course!
Don’t make me jealous! I dream of having a bathroom again…
You don’t have a bathroom??
No. There’s a sort of corridor that runs the length of the house and sometime in the 1980s they people who loved here before us had one end of it hived off with a shower and a washbasin in it. There’s no heating in it and it’s pretty uninviting even in summer. It needs nerve to shower in there. Husband filled in the vertical crack that you could see daylight through but it’s still freezing.
It sounds pretty awful. And you have a toilet inside somewhere, I hope? I’d have a hard time with no proper shower or oven–even with your beautiful scenery. I like my comfort. 😀
Yes, there’s a toilet, next to the shower room. We thought when we moved here that we’d be able to do the work to make it comfortable, but there’s everything to do, electricity, plumbing, insulation, floor, ceiling, kitchen, bathroom, windows, septic tank, the list is endless. It would just cost too much. The house is really just a shell, a glorified barn. Lovely in summer…
At least you have the summer. 😀
And it’s usually a long one 🙂
Good news! 😀
I hope so 🙂
Oof .. that’s spartan. Poor you two!
Three. The youngest is with us until January, poor thing 🙂
Aah .. poor three … I see 🙂
We’re toughening ourselves up for a camping holiday in Siberia 🙂
Hahaha … good for you Jane! 😀
🙂
Spare and yet so beautiful. (K)
Thank you.
Very skillfully evoked poetry. I love the picture too ❤❤
Thank you 🙂 The photo is one I took in January or February this year, the deadest time. There are still leaves on the trees for the moment.
You’re very welcome indeed 😊
🙂