Yesterday, I sat outside sun-bathing and watched the very first swallows of the season sitting on the phone wires apparently tidying themselves up after their long journey.
Today the wind is howling, and the sight of the the billowing tree tops through the window is enough to make any one feel sea-sick. Perhaps the oak tree in the photo will be pleased to be wrapped up warm in its furry green coat.
After a fairly miserable weekend weather-wise, Monday dawned bright and sunny and positively spring-like. So I took the opportunity to gather some violets for my desk.
(In the photo they are on the book shelf simply because it’s tidier than the desk.)
Continue reading “penny for them”
I’m pretty sure I’ve read that Wordsworth wrote his poems while out walking, and that the rhythm of his strides helped him work out the metre. (Pause here for a link to Lynn Peters’ Why Dorothy Wordsworth is not as famous as her brother.)
I try and walk every day, even if it’s only down to the post office to check the mail box. I walk in the hope that I’ll get ideas to write about; I walk to iron out the pieces I am working on; and I walk for exercise. Yesterday was the first reasonable day for a while when I was free to take time for a longer walk, so I went round the reservoir.
I didn’t find any inspiration for new poems; I did, however, find a whole anthology of old favourites.
Continue reading “anthological exercise”
The list of denominaciones de origen for Spanish wines is long and impressive, featuring such famous names as Rioja, Ribera del Duero, Rueda and Valdepeñas. The label in the photo is not from one of these, though. It’s a wine from la Mancha, and presumably the skinny little figure in red is Don Quijote himself.
There’s a huge difference between un vino de la Mancha and una mancha de vino, of course, but seeing the label made me wonder whether there are any vineyards around Staines.
While looking for a picture of a quill pen the other day, I came across several pictures I took to accompany an article on stationery written many years ago.This one particularly appealed, and though I’m not sure I’ve got anything very witty or insightful to write on the subject, I thought I’d include it here.
I suppose I could mention the confusion between the words ‘stationery’ and ‘stationary’.
Continue reading “attached to the past”
don't confuse the narrator 