Thursday, 19 April 2018

19th April 2018

Sunshine, hot and sticky, drips through the branches of leafless trees. The magnolia is out. Fleshy, sweet-scented hearts playing its yearly game of dare against the spring frosts. Forget-me-not blue above and below me. Intoxicated by the the wind-borne perfume of April's floral wine.

Monday, 12 March 2018

12th March 2018

The rain keeps falling. Driving home along flooded roads. The daffodils by the front hedge are still tightly closed.
This year: Falling rain and I cannot see the daffodils.

Sunday, 11 March 2018

10th March 2018

This time last year it felt like spring. The air was soft and heavy with warmth, although the nights were frosted with stars and ice. A blackbird filled that tree with music... and mum was still alive

Thursday, 1 March 2018

1st March 2018

There is nothing remotely romantic about these driven, windblown, tiny needles of ice,

but I cannot escape their beauty or the assurance of life they give.

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

14th February 2018

The sky is so clear this morning - it is mirror smooth and razor bright. The larches on Sunrising cut the crisp dawn with their jet black crowns. In the hedge beside the window a blackbird tries out its spring song. The notes rise and flute among the branches. Even in its hesitancy it is perfect...

... but now? Now the rain slants against the landscape. Crystal lances. Sharp and ice-hot. And the rooks don't seem to notice.

Monday, 12 February 2018

12th February 2018

Two magpies hooliganing in the middle of a salt-bleached road.

White highway and sunlight among so many browns.

For some reason it reminds me of the seaside dreams of childhood,

that smelt of tar
                  and starfished nets,
                                      and home.