rain/glaw

Mostly I really enjoy the rain; the day of these pictures it cheered me up no end, a thunder storm, heavy heavy rain. I was out with my "hello kitty" pink umbrella and my camera getting wet.
But today the rain is tiring me a little and hasn't cheeed me. Maybe I just need to go and stand in it....then have a warm bath......

smooth and cool and curious

a sunset seen from a canoe.

an afternoon at fulling tide

menorca

I have been to menorca for two weeks and taken A LOT of photographs. Week one is on Flickr, if you think you might like to browse click here
maybe at some later date I will compile a selection of words and notes, but there are other slightly more pressing things to do at the moment - like going to bed and having a good sleep; making and writing some midwinter/christmas cards; watching the clouds and blue patched fly across the sky and the blackbirds continuing with their feasting on the cider lawn.....

2 november poems

November I

Curlew calling calling calling
a hunch of egret and oyester catchers
on the full estuary edge.
Big morning moon
hanging high in the west
still drifting north.
Bands of winging starlings
between me and blueing pink clouds.
The flickering ripple full tide
bobbed by buoys, no boats,
meets heaped frosted flotsam leaves.
Curlew calling calling calling
a copper headland stretched
under the slant of sun rise.
A star of ice where a muddy puddle
almost isn’t.

Cold air nose and fingers
I am part of tide and moon.

I hear the calls of curlew, duck, bluetit
they see me
in a world of time place space
on boggy iced grass
I am standing
In life.


November II

I lie in the bath
where many a misery
has been washed off
the low morning sun
crystals through condensation
carnation steam rises
and light flickers on the wall.

Give up the body battle
and let it be.

Full moon has filled the darkness
from dusk to dawn;
nothing deep to sink into
so ride lightly on the brightness
that is surprising in winter.

some words from others

From The Kabir Book (version by Robert Bly)

I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
What is this river you want to cross?
There are no travellers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or resting?
There is no river at all, no boat, and no boatman.
There is no towrope either, no one to pull it.
There is no ground, no sky, no time, no bank, no ford!

And there is no body, and no mind!
Do you believe there is some place that will make the soul less thirsty?
In that great absence you will find nothing.

Be strong then, and enter into your own body;
there you have a solid place for your feet.
Think about it carefully!
Don’t go off somewhere else!

Kabir says this: just throw away all thoughts of imaginary things,
And stand firm in that which you are.


The Whale-watcher
Kathleen Jamie

And when at last the road
gives out, I’ll walk –
harsh grass, sea maws,
lichen-crusted bedrock –

and hole up the cold
summer in some battered
caravan, quartering
the brittle waves

til my eyes evaporate
and I’m willing again
to deal myself in:
having watched them

breach, breathe, and dive
far out in the glare,
like stitches sewn in a rent
almost beyond repair.


R.S. Thomas

It is too late to start
For destinations not of the heart.
I must stay here with my hurt.

by me to me....
Are you still looking for that damn river? If you want to swim, swim now. But remember you are not a fish. And while we’re on the subject remember you are not a bird, you can’t fly. Your feet need to be firmly planted on the ground.

azure & gold morning

Is this the end of the dahlias? The forecast is for frost. There are so many of them, and a smothering of buds still. The sun spangles the water droplets.
The man who planted the dahlias lies dying and I wonder if this week will bring his death too, it seems very possible. Should we have early fireworks, he enjoys them so much?



and I stole someone elses words (P.A.N.) for this morning elsewhere, and used them here in the title.

travelling

A blue blue sky in Cardiff, left. Now a long stretch of miles out sea under thin cloud: oyester catcher; egret; cormerant. Enough sun to sparkle the sea. Crow sat red berry hedges.

neges P.A.N.

playing in the stream again

hiroshima commeration, trefdraeth/newport sir benfro/pembrokeshire

playing in water

I've been playing in streams again. I followed the mill stream that runs past my home, up the road. Many shady places, water deep deep down below the level of the road; cutting down from the mynydd. Light flickering amonst the green. Plenty of places to return to, to play in. Pools and small waterfalls, a faerie place I'm sure - though actually I expect of an evening that I'd find badgers near by!

Wild garlicseed heads, campion, cow parsley, brooklime...over hung by oak, beech, hawthorn, holly - flowering...

playing

playing in the stream, cool water, pebbles a little slippery underfoot. trousers rolling down into the water. collecting discarded china, a history of dommestic accidents. placing the china onto the rocks and watching to see how long they stay - only one slids off in the ripples. sun light flickers through the trees and reflects in the water, shimmering on my hand as I place it over the water in shade.