Thursday, May 28

A Poem for Thursday..."A Time in Times"



 
 
There are times in all of our lives when we have to stop on the road we are travelling...look around at the circumstances...and review the situation.
 
It can be a change of direction is needed...and a change of priorities
 
This was our experience...it made us the people we are today.
 
A Time in Times.

We disappeared into a nether world.
Became invisible and without form.
People who had known us passed by unblinking
Those who sensed our presence were few and far between.
All that we had been had disappeared with the mists of time.
Persona non gratis is what we became.
Even Harry Potter could not have gone as completely as we did.
So new rules had to be formed.
New priorities and timings worked out.
This nether world was to us an enigma.
And so we set to learn the laws in our new country.

Tuesday, May 26

...queen anne...her lace and other wild flowers...



The last week in May and the roadsides and lanes are white with the delicate florets of the wild flower called queen anne's lace.....Anthriscus sylvestris...to the afficionados of "Spring Watch"...
..or wild carrot...



Queen Anne was tatting white lace. (Tatting is the all-but-lost art of making lace by hand.) The beautiful white lace she was tatting became the white lacy flowers of the wild carrot plant. She pricked her finger and one drop of blood oozed out. This became the central dark red or purple sterile floret that is present on some, but not all, Queen Anne's Lace flowers.
Legends disagree as to which Queen Anne was tatting such lovely lace. Some say it was Anne (1574 - 1619), the first Stuart Queen Anne, who was brought over from Denmark at fourteen years of age to be a Queen to King James of Scotland. Others argue it was Anne (1665 - 1714), the daughter of William and Mary, and the last monarch in the Stuart line. Both Annes died in their forties!

...Cant help but stop every few yards and take another pic..."wait potter..I'll be with you in a minute!"....patient man!!!






































...and all on the magic lane that leads to "Jack Scout" and "Jenny Brown's Point ".










Friday, May 22

Discovering John Blakemore...photographer.



I've discovered the work of the photographer...John Blakemore...yes I know ...rather late in his life...but sooner late than never.

So I'm inspired by his work to try to push my own photography on a bit.

His work on tulips started me off as a pot in the living room was almost dead and yet still reaching out for the light....I did what "they" recommend...took loads and loads of the same thing but each one slightly different and that assessed them before editing.



 ...at the same time I had an article about Steichen and his iconic photo of Gloria Swanson around ...reading it from time to time in between other things...and so I tried the black net over the lens to capture a distance in the pics....
...fun and maybe a bit of success and a moving on in what I am trying to achieve.

A Poem for Thursday...."The Aunt"







AUNT HELEN
I once heard them call her the weak one,
The youngest, the runt of the pack.
Without grace they said, weak-boned
Hen-chested,  round backed.
Taken away from her mother perhaps
Taken away too soon?
Taken away from family
And the comforts of her home.
I loved her, I love her still,
It was never a slight for me
To get the sharpness of her tongue
Or the sting of her repartee.
Dympsy pink, eau de nil!
Mauve and duck egg blue.
Cherry trees in the late spring
From the veranda viewed.
Garlic flowers in the woods behind
And the heady perfume of bells.
I gathered up armfuls in April days
Of the blueing crooks in the dell.
Now all I have is the ground I stand on,
That and nothing more.
And fast fading memories of our walks
On the  lough's grey stoney shore.
And the smell of tweed skirt from Donegal,
 Damp in the moist-laden air.
With a whiff of the essence of violets
That told you the aunt had been there.

Saturday, May 16

straw...berries...


Always an exciting time waiting for the first plump ruby red strawberry of the new season...


Tuesday, April 28

The Greening of Penketh.

The local council has set up a programme of tree planting here in Penketh...hooray!!...

We have been doing our own greening over the 34 years since we took over the land which belonged to Greenalls the brewers.

Then it was used as an unofficial tip...dumping ground for old bikes, prams, wooden windows and shattered glass....awful.

Below is the birch stand we started to plant as each member of our family was born.

Now there are eleven...and probably no more until the grandgirls...all five...add to the numbers...one day!!!

Each April I watch the greening of the birch grove and marvel at the soft green leaves as they develop.

Tuesday, April 14

Piel Island...A Poem for Thursday



 

 I'd been wanting to go to this island for a few years. The last time we made the trip the weather was windy and the Ferryman refused to take us across...who can blame him..the currents alone are treacherous between the mainland...Barrow-in-Furness and the island. This is no ordinary place..it has it's own King and Throne and also  Piel Castle. The Abbott of Furness Abbey owned the rights to all the takings from the sea going craft coming from both Ireland and The Isle-of-Man. It's not touristy and apart from some terraced houses the pub is the only occupied building.
We spent a day just wandering the edge and listening to the skylarks which are everywhere on this little piece of land.



 















Piel Island
 
The skylarks are rising
Drawing me far away
From the nest low in the
Tufts of maran grass that
Grow out of the mussel beach.
I stop to watch their ascent
And listen as the lark
Song joins the soft keening
Of an April wind 'til
Wind takes over and
The bird is lost to my eyes.