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Showing posts from February, 2015

Twilight Moments …

The twilight zone.That elusive time just before dawn and dusk.These moments in the day fascinate and enthral me.  Each and every day they change, minute by minute they change.  No two are the same.  I have hundreds of photos in my archives.  To say I am an obsessed is perhaps an exaggeration but I do seem to take photos everyday of the sun setting or rising. I would have thought there was a special word for my condition, but on checking, have found there is none.  Maybe I should make one up – I am a Twilightologist – how’s that.“And yet day and night meet fleetingly at twilight and dawn," he said, lowering his voice again and narrowing his eyes and moving his head a quarter of an inch closer to hers. "And their merging sometimes affords the beholder the most enchanted moments of all the twenty four hours. A sunrise or sunset can be ablaze with brilliance and arouse all the passion, all the yearning, in the soul of the beholder.”
Mary Balogh, A Summer to Remember“There'…

Rainy Day Contemplation …

I walked in the rain – on purpose  – I got wet (well, dampish) – on purpose.  I listened to the rain pit-pat on my umbrella.  I heard the sound of trees dripping and searched for their reflection in puddles.  I smelled the scent of the wet earth.*  I was alone on my walk – not another soul around; they were hiding indoors, afraid of getting wet; not me, I found it liberating – I enjoyed the singing of the birds which seemed louder than usual and their song echoed around me till I couldn’t guess which tree they were calling from.  It was a revelation; being aware and going with the weather instead of fighting against it.  The urge to make a dash for it was quashed – I didn’t exactly dance in the rain but could have had the mood taken me. The next day the sun returned and I bought yellow tulips to celebrate.On the fifth day, which was a Sunday, it rained very hard. I like it when it rains hard. It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty.”
Mark HaddonYou…

Can Spring Be Far Behind?…

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”
Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ode to the West WindHave you ever wondered where the word ‘spring’ comes from?Old English springan "to leap, burst forth, fly up; spread, grow"“Spring”, referring to a season rather than the many other meanings of the word, first popped up in the 16th century.  Starting in the 14th century, this time of year was called “springing time” and then in the 15th century this got shortened to “spring-time”, and then further shortened in the 16th century to just “spring”.  The 14th century “springing time” came about in reference to plants “springing” from the ground and the like.  Before the season was called these things, it was called “Lent” in Old English.The snow has gone, no hard frosts for a few days – Sunday and Monday were almost Spring-like.  Blue skies, no cold wind,  warm sunshine.  So I thought I would search for signs of Spring.“It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you'v…

The Snow-Walkers …

I have been unseasonably cheerful this winter – I don’t know what’s wrong with me – gone are thoughts of hibernation – gone is the desire to snuggle up in front of the fire – I think a visit to the doctor is called for to check as to why I am so chirpy.  Could it be that I am actually enjoying winter for a change!When we woke up last Friday morning to  this -and this -instead of cranking the heating up or going back to bed – I said come on, let’s go for a walk before it disappears.  And so we did.  A chance to wear my, as yet, unused snow boots.and I have to say my feet were as toasty as toasty things.  As we ventured out I felt myself smiling – to have a good fall of snow doesn’t happen very often, it gave me a childlike pleasure, and I intended to make the most of it.  We wandered the lanes taking photographs – it is hard not to when everything looked so lovely.  How can anyone not like the transformation that snow brings – it becomes a world in monochrome – even the starkness of a …

Down in Frosted Hollows … The Land That Time Forgot …

When I show you photographs of the countryside where I live it is usually on walks around the village, the fields behind my home and the soft undulating hills.  But if you go deeper inland you will find something much more primeval.  Places where glaciers gouged out the landscape many millions of years ago.    There are thickets of trees, ancient hedgerows, streams and ponds – places to explore with no sign of human habitation.  Mostly it is grazing land around us but down in the hollows only mares tails grow, the land is soggy and the streams run swiftly.  Trees fall down and no one hears them as they creak and crash to the ground.      Foxes hunt down their prey with no interference and rooks and crows gather in the treetops kaaking and cawing in conversation.  If you look closely you will see the burrows of rabbits dug between the roots of trees, and badgers holts in the side of soft-earthed banks, evidence of their occupation from the soil that has been removed and deposited o…