War of the winds

 

wind from the west

bringing the change

battles the furnace of arid air

its flails of desert sand

with rain and the laughter of seals.

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Morning light

I took some photos this morning, it was so still and warm. Amid the usual racket of thrushes, blackbirds, wood pigeons, nightingales, great tits and woodpeckers, (and the bactrian army) I could hear the first flutes of the golden orioles from the poplars and somewhere close the oop-oop-oop of the hoopoes. Everyone who is anyone has arrived. Spring can begin.

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Looking west and south.April192.jpg

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Looking into the sunrise and the pond where the bactrian orchestra practices.

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Poplars, hibiscus and the rose tree planted round about the time of the Great War.

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North side of the house where we ought to build a moat for drainage. One day…

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Bear’s garlic grows everywhere in the shade by the house. Like white blue bells…but the smell isn’t exactly the same.

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The meadow is full of blue flax flowers. Too much light to get the colour though.

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So much light

caught in petal bowls

bounced along blades of grass

fueling root and stalk

jungle of life.