In, through the crack
between Earth and the heavens,
slips the imperfect day.
From the crimson feathers of the Japanese maple to the bright eyes lurking in the hedgerows, there are so many things to see in nature’s autumnal colours.
There are lots of old buildings around here, and many newer ones that pretend to be old or use details from older buildings.
Many of the architectural features are bricked up and I wonder what is behind them.
I think the correct word for the bricked in windows and arches is “blind” – though I’m not sure if that is only for ones that were never intended to be open.
Continue reading “blind hope”
Even someone who cares as little about cars as I do couldn’t walk past the Rolls Royce parked in town the other day without stopping to look closer. It wasn’t the car that interested me, though: it was the emblem – or, as Wikipedia would have it, the bonnet ornament.
I don’t think I’d ever really thought about what the figure represented; I’d just assumed it was a winged victory. But now I come to do some research, I find it’s actually the Spirit of Ecstasy.
Continue reading “ecstatic thoughts”
Autumn is full of butterflies. Or so it seems to me.
Sometimes, as in the picture at the top of the post, it is only the visual echo of a butterfly. Sometimes, as in this fragment, it’s a memory of summer:
From among the fallen leaves, the wind
lifts a broken butterfly wing
and gives it flight.
outside my window
the neighbour’s yellow Mini
Sadly, that’s not the way it looks out there at the moment; instead, it’s decidedly grey.
Still, the forecast shows surprisingly little rain for in the foreseeable future and it looks as if we may get a brief sunny spell this afternoon. Even if we don’t, the parked cars are nice and bright.
Beach parasols fray
against a still-blue sky:
the end of summer