spain – Page 23 – don't confuse the narrator

poetry, plants and poison

Other than the gourd patch down in the orchard, one of the few bright spots in the garden at the moment is the uncontrollable oleander outside my study window.

I say “uncontrollable” as it has been ruthlessly cut back a couple of times and tied back with twine, rope and clothes line and still manages to break free enough to block the driveway. At least this year it isn’t covered in black fly and other bugs.
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melon yellow

I commented last week that there are very few flowers in the garden at the moment, but it would be wrong to say there were none at all.

Each morning, I dutifully water the patch of ornamental gourds I planted in an attempt to cover some of the chain link fence between us and the neighbours. And each day I am amazed at the size and colour of the flowers.

Since the flowers first appeared a couple of weeks ago, a line of poetry has been running through my head. I’m not sure whether it’s triggered by the suspicion that gourds and melons must be related, by the brightness of the flowers or by the similarity of the sounds of gourd and gaudy…
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hugs and kisses

Despite Spain’s hot temperatures and the stereotyped passion of the Spanish people, I don’t suppose Spanish is any more eligible to be called the language of love than any other language. It does, however, seem to have a certain facility with affection that is difficult, if not impossible, in English.

The screenshot below is taken from a recent story on the BBC website about the Bárcenas scandal.

By extracting the phrase “a hug” from Rajoy’s text message to Bárcenas and using it as a subheading, the editor has managed to reduce a major political scandal to the level of a farce – or maybe the Teletubbies.
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flowerless thoughts

As I said in “what’s been bugging me“, the local insects may be impressive, but most of them aren’t very colourful – at least not the ones who sit still long enough for me to take pictures. That’s what I like about flower photography: the subject doesn’t run away when you point a camera at it.

At the moment, though, there aren’t many blooms around to brighten the blog pages. It’s partly because of the heat – all the vivid wildflowers of a month or so ago have dried back to straw, and even in the garden the few plants that are in flower are mostly wilting and ragged.

But it’s the insects who are responsible for the chewed petals and holey leaves, so I’m in two minds when I see a bright bug to know if I want it to stay put for a photo or hop, crawl or fly away and leave my plants alone.

here be dragons

The cats bring me gifts; they leave them outside the door: lizards, locusts, snakes, birds, eggs, embryos, feathers…

I’m never sure what I’ll find on the verandah in the morning. Never sure if it will be alive or dead, complete or dismembered.

So when I found this lovely creature the other morning, I assumed he was only in one piece because the cats had got bored and abandoned the game when he died of shock.

Naturally, I went to get the camera to take some close-ups… Continue reading “here be dragons”