monsters & fairies

There are stories that parents tell their impressionable children that remain with them for their whole lives. I’m not sure why I’m feeling nostalgic, but I’ve been remembering two such stories, one from my mother and one from my father.

Both are set in the dim and distant past, when we lived in Scotland.
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thistles & things

Today is St Andrew’s Day, the national day of Scotland.

So, since Andrew the Apostle, also known as the First-called, includes among his patronage, fishermen and rope-makers, it seems reasonable to mark the day here on the blog by posting a selection of images of ropes, fish, fishing boats, and fishermen.

As well, of course, as thistles, which are the national flower of Scotland.
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pictures, but no words

I don’t know how many words I have written this week, but I know I took over 200 photographs. There aren’t any poems, anecdotes or other ponderings in my notebook that I want to post, so I guess I’ll have to settle for pictures instead. Out of the 200, these three are my favourites:

Wooden pier, Firth of Forth, Ocean Terminal, Edinburgh

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here today

For another hour or so, it’s St Andrew’s Day. Not only is he the patron saint of Scotland, but also of Russia, the Ukraine, Greece, Romania and a lot of other places; apparently he’s also patron of fishermen, fishmongers and ropemakers.

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great oaks and giant redwoods

oak tree

Wildflowers and grasses
dwarf my three-year oak.
The spring breeze whispers:
Patience! Time will tell.

Of course the tree in the picture isn’t the “three-year oak”. (Though I think the little one would be quite a bit taller if it hadn’t been accidentally strimmed a couple of times in its first year!)

The photo is of one of the trees on the neighbouring plot.

They tower over our greenhouse and when the wind blows in autumn, acorns skitter across the flat roof and I am tempted to run like Henny Penny to warn everybody that “the sky is falling!”
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