Laundry day
Spring blossoms scent the air;
the kitchen smells
of Marseilles soap and ironing.
April is not only the cruelest month, it’s also National Poetry Month. (Though I suppose that may depend on what nationality you are.)
Continue reading “april”
Well, Google tells me that it’s the first day of spring today, although to be honest, the sky is more wintry than I’ve seen it in weeks, if not months. So the photos aren’t from today – and they aren’t all from my garden – although they were all taken during the last week:
Well, I think it’s a cherry orchard, but I may have to go back when the trees are in blossom to be certain.
Surely it’s April that should be “breeding lilacs out of the dead land”, not January? But here the buds are already beginning to show signs of breaking into life.
Mind you, unless there’s some rain soon, I don’t quite know how much energy the trees will have for producing flowers, especially as I forgot to dead head them when they finished flowering last year.
At which point, it seems appropriate to post this abandoned draft from a few years back:
Continue reading “a promise of lilacs”
Yesterday, around the world millions of people gave thanks for lots of different things. In a month’s time, it will be Christmas Day, and millions of others will also be counting their blessings.
Today, I haven’t a single poetical thought to share, no particular insights into life, and I have seen no particularly atrocious grammar in the papers to mock. I don’t even have time to go and find something odd or otherwise worthy of a photograph.
However, since today is as good a day as any other to be thankful, I’ve found two old photos from November last year of sights that were both bright and glorious and made me feel thankful, cheerful and just generally good about life, even if only briefly:
don't confuse the narrator 