seasons – Page 37 – don't confuse the narrator

last year’s cat

I said the next post would be more about poetry, but if it is, this page is going to begin to be very boringly text-heavy. So here’s a quick seasonal picture to brighten it up:

The photo was taken last year and this cat is no longer with us. The rest of the semi-feral family are doing exactly the same with this year’s leaves, though.

…as the year grows old

We went to Mombeltrán for lunch the other day and I stopped to snap a picture of the “autumn colours” on the local mountains.

We hadn’t been that way for a few months, and it was shocking to think that the fire this summer had come that close to the town and destroyed so many of the pines.
Continue reading “…as the year grows old”

in the pink

I was taking photos of sweet chestnuts the other day, but having transferred the pictures to the computer, it seems I have a problem. The sky really wasn’t that colour at all, but that’s the way the camera saw it, which probably means it’s time I got a new camera.

I wanted a picture to post alongside this ‘ku which is buried somewhere in a comment from this time last year.

smooth new lifeform
peeps from the belly
of a chestnut hedgehog

The camera has paid for itself over the years, providing the material for three published foto-reportajes as well as incidental illustrations for many other articles, including most of the photos on the blog. It’d be nice to have one a bit smaller and smarter, though.

Then again, there might be an advantage to continuing to use this one: it might help me look at the world through a rose-tinted lens.

fall-out

Every year around this time, there’s a day when I wake up and do a double take: has there been some kind of chemical attack over night to account for the fine yellow powder covering the whole village?

It lasts for a week or more and the dust gets everywhere. Cars are covered with it and it forms a scum round the edge of any puddle that happens to be around. Continue reading “fall-out”

of branches and bunches

Half the people in the village this morning were carrying bunches of flowers and greenery, which reminds me that it must be Domingo de Ramos – Palm Sunday.

Ramo and rama are words I can never get straight. Checking today in the on-line Diccionario de la Real Academia, I see that rama is a branch emerging from the tunk or main stem of a plant. Ramo, on the other hand, is a secondary level branch that emerges from the rama madre, or, perhaps, a rama cortada del árbol. If branches change sex the further they get from the trunk or once they’ve been cut from the tree, no wonder I’m confused.
Continue reading “of branches and bunches”