they lied

They promised us a week of rain, starting last Saturday, and I was really rather looking forward to it. In fact, although it’s definitely not as hot as it was, this is probably the most cloud we’ve seen:

Late summer scenery, Gredos
a wisp and a promise

geological shift

Gredos

It’s not only the seasons that seem to have shifted here. At this time of year, we should have snow on the mountains; instead it looked more as if we had a volcano out there this morning.

“first there is a mountain”

Every time there’s a break in the storms and the clouds start to peel back from the mountains, I hear the jangle of Donovan’s lyrics in my head.

cloud peeling from the mountains after storms
There is a mountain may not be a poem, but the line “The lock upon my garden gate’s a snail” is poetry I’d be proud to have written.

Perhaps I should re-read some of the popular philosophy books on my shelf: they certainly provided plenty of inspiration in the Sixties.

white

Cirrus over Gredos

 

snowdust on the mountain;
weft of cirrus; along the bridle path,
a twist of lamb’s wool, bramble-caught.

 
 
(No photo of the lamb’s wool, I’m afraid – it looks awfully grubby when you try and take a close-up!)