change of view

The shortest – or, at least, the most picturesque – route into the centre of town from my home leads through a walled garden owned by the church. It’s a wonderful space and many of the photos on this blog – witch hazel, bluebells, cyclamen, crocuses, spring blossom… – have been taken there. I’ve sat there often, sometimes to read, occasionally to write, but more often just to think and watch the birds and squirrels.

As far as I know, the garden is open every day; certainly in the two or three years I’ve lived here I’d never seen it closed. Never until this week, that is.
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reading not writing

I really thought that I would do better today and actually find something to write about, especially as it’s midsummer’s day.

It would have been my grandmother’s birthday and Grandpa always gave her a poetry book. But I have no new summer poetry and I’ve been too busy reading this weekend to do any real writing.

As the reading hasn’t all been for pleasure, I did slip out for a short walk this morning, so I will once more fall back on posting pictures instead.
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late summer

It’s late: the day has run away with me and the blog post I had intended to write just hasn’t materialised.

So, in honour of the fact that summer started a couple of days ago, I’ll settle for posting a couple of photos of bright sunny flowers and try and do better tomorrow.

yellow flower

forecast

It was Candlemas yesterday and an utterly glorious day. Sadly, a fine Candlemas is supposed to mean there’s still more winter to come. Which probably means it’s as likely to be snow as rain that provides the required liquid for “February fill dyke”.

Today has certainly brought more rain than snow – there was sleet first thing, and then the constant mizzle that isn’t worth getting an umbrella out for, so you end up damp spirited as well as wet.

Still, we do have snowrops – Candlemas Bells – even if we don’t have snow flakes at the moment.

snowdrop

for the birds

Although the afternoon was dull and drear, this morning there was bright sunshine and it felt like spring. So, camera in hand, I went for a walk in the park.

There weren’t many spring flowers, or buds on the trees, but there were lots of dogs and their owners, dozens of gulls on the football pitch, three or four fishermen by the river, and several families feeding the ducks.
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memory of summer

It’s been another nasty day, with no sunshine. The rain started early, then turned to sleet and then wet white feathers of snow that whispered against my umbrella and turned immediately to slush under my feet when I walked to the supermarket to get milk.

Despite a brief attempt at settling, the snow was soon superseded by more rain, and now it’s reduced to a mizzling dampness, which is expected to fade to mist or fog later on.
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what’s in a name?

This weekend sees the last full moon of the year and, once more, the papers are full of articles about supermoons.

I was wondering why no-one ever bothered about such things when I was a child, and then I happened upon this page on the time and date website, which says the term wasn’t coined until 1979, when astronomer Richard Nolle first used it.
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