A couple of weeks ago I was trying to locate a half-remembered short story. My “google fu” is not what I thought, apparently, and the story remained unidentified until I reached home and had access to my own bookshelves. Here, I found the story in the first book I opened.
It was Lovecraft’s Poetry and the Gods. (Easily found online now I know precisely what I’m looking for.)
Skimming through the story, I find this lovely snipe at modern poetry: Continue reading ““the dreams of Gods””
One problem with travelling is that half the time you don’t know what you’re looking at.
I am probably less familiar now with the flora and fauna of the UK than with that of Spain, and I have no idea what the tree I photographed this morning was.
A few days ago, I read a poem by a friend which reminded me of a short story. Sadly, I can’t remember who wrote it: it might have been Saki; perhaps it was Wilde; there’s a very slight chance it was Lovecraft. (I’m fairly sure it was unlike most of the other stories I know by the same author.)
I’m a long way from my own bookshelves, so after racking my brains unsuccessfully, I have had to resort to trying to find the story via the web. 
I half remember beautiful scenery, or it might have been the view of a garden through French windows; it could even have been potted plants, I suppose, though I think they would have been perfumed, not simply aspidistras.
There was music; probably celestial, though it might have been a piano. There was a dreamer and a dream, perhaps of classical gods; a promise of immortality, or of life in a different dimension…
Continue reading “on the edge of memory”
(The real natural signs, that is, not forced daffodils that have been in the shops since before Christmas, nor the bargain strawberries imported from Spain, however fresh and sweet they are.)
Now the local daffs are promising and will soon be brightening all the gardens, motorway verges and railway embankments. (I imagine a great golden wave that starts in the south west and works its way slowly up to the far north of Scotland.)
For the moment, though, there are snowdrops; more, perhaps, than I have ever seen in my life. I’m currently learning to use a new camera, so there will probably be more snowdrop photos than ever before, too.
I’m still thinking about the perseids, but, even if I hadn’t dropped my camera and broken most of its functionalities, I don’t think it was ever good enough – and I am not skilled enough – to take worthwhile pictures of the night sky. Instead of the Milky Way and meteor scatter, then, the best I can do for a field of stars is these wildflowers that I saw last month in south west England:
don't confuse the narrator 