missing days

Although I was alert enough to remember the Chinese New Year a few weeks ago and make a semi-relevant post, my mind has been full of the general rubbish and rubble of life and I seem to have missed a lot of “days” recently: St David’s Day, International Book Day, World Wildlife Day, International Women’s Day, and no doubt at least a handful of others.

So here are some daffodils for St David’s:
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The human race is very fond of enclosures and barriers. We put fences around open spaces and lock other people out.

padlocked gate
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for the birds

Although the afternoon was dull and drear, this morning there was bright sunshine and it felt like spring. So, camera in hand, I went for a walk in the park.

There weren’t many spring flowers, or buds on the trees, but there were lots of dogs and their owners, dozens of gulls on the football pitch, three or four fishermen by the river, and several families feeding the ducks.
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something for the journey

I have always enjoyed travelling. Not necessarily because I want to get somewhere in particular, but for the simple joy of the journey: the “time between places” when, particularly if you travel alone and on public transport, you can duck out of life and be someone else entirely.

Chance encounters in the buffet car, casual conversations that crop up between complete strangers, momentary glimpses of other people’s lives, things seen from train windows – and, as in the photo above, sometimes even the trains themselves in their festive glad rags.
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still a blank

The snow may have gone, but I’m afraid my mind is still a blank and every faint idea leads to a dead end.

snowy cemetery
For those who didn’t read yesterday’s post, here’s a quick reminder that five of my books are available to download free from Amazon until Wednesday 20th. There are two poetry collections, a couple of books for writers, and a collection of essays written when I lived in Spain. They can all be found from my Amazon author’s page.

late home

It’s way later than I usually write the blog, but I’ve been out all day at a rehearsal for the local TEDx, which is coming up in a fortnight’s time and at which I’ll be reading – or perhaps performing – some poetry.

I won’t go into the details of what I’ll be doing, as I guess I will write about it all after the event (or not), but all the talks and performances are vaguely connected to and around the theme of the event, which is “home”.
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home and hearth

I’ve been thinking a lot about home recently. Not because I’ve gone all nostalgic, but because it’s the theme of the local TEDx, which is taking place in November.

It’s a great theme, as it offers a huge range of possibilities for talks. My immediate thoughts were quite domestic: houses, family, pets, neighbours…

But of course there are other connotations: home is about being safe. And there’s a definite emotional connection: it’s not just about being out of danger, but being comfortable with the language, the culture, the habits…
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