images: both photographic and poetic

One problem with trying to find illustrations for some of the pieces I post here is that I’m between cameras and the phone isn’t as adaptable as I’d like it to be, so the photos – particularly the ones that should be close ups – are fairly hit and miss.

These wonderfully clam-like toadstools would probably have made a better photo to go with the smallest room in all the world:

toadstools

They aren’t growing in my back garden, but they were on the river bank close to where I live. Again, I wouldn’t dare eat them as I know nothing of micología. Maybe I should go on one of the courses I see advertised when hongos and setas are in season locally.

And for all the yellow birds of autumn this might have been better::

Treep tops silhouetted against cloud

Trying to decide what type of tree it is in the picture made me think of Child’s song in spring by Edith Nesbit:

The silver birch is a dainty lady,
She wears a satin gown;
The elm tree makes the old churchyard shady,
She will not live in town.

The English oak is a sturdy fellow,
He gets his green coat late;
The willow is smart in a suit of yellow,
While brown the beech trees wait.

Such a gay green gown God gives the larches –
As green as He is good!
The hazels hold up their arms for arches,
When Spring rides through the wood.

The chestnut’s proud, and the lilac’s pretty,
The poplar’s gentle and tall,
But the plane tree’s kind to the poor dull city –
I love him best of all!

But I don’t think it’s one of those at all. I think I need to turn to Tennyson:

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river

I’m not sure (I wasn’t paying much attention to the bark) but I think they must be aspens. And I do like the idea that well-written and well-researched poetry can be educational. I’ve mentioned before that I think if you include nature in a poem you should be accurate; perhaps it’s because I rely on poetry to help me understand, appreciate and identify the natural world!

Of course there are times when ‘the way it really happened’ is irrelevant to the poem. Maybe I’ll write more about that in the next post.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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