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.
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.
Continue reading “for the birds”
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Despite a brief attempt at settling, the snow was soon superseded by more rain, and now it’s reduced to a mizzling dampness, which is expected to fade to mist or fog later on.
Continue reading “memory of summer”
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.
Continue reading “what’s in a name?”
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.
Continue reading “an echo of butterflies”
breathing grey mist through city streets;
he stamps in puddles
then laughs with sudden sunshine.
Continue reading “more autumn”
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.