even though the days are getting shorter and colder
the views looking up have been spectacular!
I visited Inverness last week again; my job takes me there twice a year and it always gives great photo opportunities! It was cold and crispy, my favourite kind of autumn weather. The river glistened in the afternoon sun on Saturday
While I took these photos, the bells of the cathedral were ringing. As you can imagine, it was a wonderful sound to accompany these images.
Impressive castle framed by the trees
Here it is later on in the evening with twinkling fairy lights in the trees on the riverbank
I managed some unintended Bokeh in this next photo – trying to photograph the moon is tricky, and I wouldn’t normally post out of focus pics but it looks pretty!
Happy times in a lovely place 😄
I’m a little late with this poem, as January is already over, but I like this poem very much; and I enjoyed including poetry here over Christmas, and want to carry that on. It’s great to discover new poets and their work and to revisit old favourites. I love the economy of the words in this poem, every one counts and makes the imagery vivid; enjoy.
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
Purrs all day.
It’s good to look back over the month just passed and reflect on what has happened. January was busy but full of good friends, food and laughter. It was my birthday, Tara made herself at home and seems very happy here, the garden has had a little attention between the many bouts of rain, there’s been lots of music and I even had time for some crochet too.
I’m on a poetry roll, so for today, as the UK is battered and blown around by gale force winds and rain, another poem rejoicing in the seasons and nature by John Clare.
The holly bush, a sober lump of green,
Shines through the leafless shrubs all brown and grey,
And smiles at winter be it eer so keen
With all the leafy luxury of May.
And O it is delicious, when the day
In winter’s loaded garment keenly blows
And turns her back on sudden falling snows,
To go where gravel pathways creep between
Arches of evergreen that scarce let through
A single feather of the driving storm;
And in the bitterest day that ever blew
The walk will find some places still and warm
Where dead leaves rustle sweet and give alarm
To little birds that flirt and start away.
I took this photo a couple of years ago on a snowy winter walk and thought it was a good accompaniment to this poem.
Poetry today – I thought this poem was apt for the time of year and the changing of season from autumn to winter.
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.
William Carlos Williams