It was a dull day in the park yesterday, but amid the grey there were a couple of brighter images: there were a few pools of daffodil yellow and the willows along by the river were gauzy with green, waiting for day or two of sunshine to turn them into a mass of caterpillar catkins.
There was also this magnificent flower which I think must be a Helleborus Orientalis hybrid, perhaps a Red Lady. I presume from the fact today is Palm Sunday it can be classified as a Lenten Rose:
Continue reading “spring again – again”
spring again
It’s a grey day and bitterly cold, but tonight is the spring equinox, which is as good an opportunity as any to post some seasonal photos and re-post a seasonal poem.
Continue reading “spring again”
counting chickens
The train’s delayed and while I wait,
I gauge my luck – or lack thereof –
in magpies: the furl of caping wings,
and splay-tailed swoop to perch
high in the winter cage of track-side trees
whose trunks are evergreened by ivy.
The magpies were too far away to get a photo, but this blackbird seemed to think that if he sat still enough I wouldn’t notice him.
look closer
I’m not fond of hydrangeas. They are all right when they are vivid cobalt blue, fresh from the florist, but the old plants in alkaline soils that grow into oversized heaps of wishy-washy pink mops are simply not my favourites.
And then, of course, if you leave the flower clusters on over the winter to protect the new shoots, for months on end you have nothing but a dull mess of tangled brown. At least, that’s what I have always thought.
Today, though, I looked a little closer and found the whole bush was decked in a filigree of pale lace. 
blank
I came across some old photos yesterday, which is just as well, as my mind is a blank and at least they give me something to post.
Continue reading “blank”
don't confuse the narrator 