I took a fair number of photos of the pussy willow tree I passed on my way to the market today. It was breezy, though, and, much like my thoughts, none of the pictures are very focused.
This first one was in many respects especially unsuccessful, as the camera settings were all wrong. Even so, it is by far my favourite.
I’m sure I should be able to come up with some particularly cutting or incisive comment about it, but I’m afraid my ideas are all a bit vague and rather fuzzy round the edges.
Having taken the photo of this rather splendid chimpanzee, I was wondering what on earth I could post in the way of text to go alongside it. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any poetry featuring primates other than humans.
But despite having watched Planet of the Apes and knowing that chimpanzees are not monkeys, I post enough tenuous connections and bad puns on the blog to feel that I can get away with making a link via the verb to monkey when used with the meaning to mimic.
Continue reading “monkey see, monkey do”
The EWS logo on the side of a train the other night caught my eye: it seemed so eminently traditional that I felt it must belong to the era of nationalised railways and navy blue quilted anoraks.
Having looked it up online, though, I find the company is only twenty years old. I also find that what I think of as an anorak probably bears little resemblance to the original Greenlandish garment.
Continue reading “transports of delight”
Once more, my head seems to be stuffed so full of cotton wool, clouds or feathers that there’s no room for a single useful or original thought.
I do have a set of rather lovely photos of swans I took recently but I think pretty much everything I’ve written that features birds, feathers or flight has already appeared on the blog at some point, so I’m lacking words to accompany the pictures.
I would have thought that swans should be inspirational and make writing easy as the adult female is a pen. These, though, seem to be mute swans.
Continue reading “swanning around”
There’s hazy sunshine this morning and I suspect that when I finally get ready and go out it will feel like spring.
I’m pretty sure, though, that the blossoms I photographed in full sunshine at lunchtime a couple of days ago will have been battered to a pulp by storms by now.
Even today, if I diddle around too long, fussing about what to wear and writing the blog etc., it’s quite possible that the weather will have changed completely and it will be bucketing down with rain and blowing a force ten gale.
Continue reading “signs and portents”
don't confuse the narrator 