Friday, April 22

Good Friday

...and on the third hour he was dead.....
....and they took him down from the cross.....

Thursday, April 21

A Poem for Thursday....Here is a Miracle...

Here is a Miracle

Here is a miracle
 brown twigs
have turned green.
I saw it this week.

Here is a miracle
I saw it this week
colour exploded
along dusty roads.

Colour exploded
with orange and pink
purple and cream
on last week's brown twigs.

I saw it this week
and a fig tree survived
no need to go cursing
small fruit has appeared.
major epiphany.

Here is a miracle.

winter defeated.

Wednesday, April 20

Micro climate

When we arrived here 30 years ago the back field was being used as an unofficial tip......a dump.
So we cleared it .....enough for three skips and then some. Started work on the nettles, docks and brambles and got a lot sorted. But then we slowed down a bit and looked at the results and had a rethink.
Yes some would be gardenish! And some would be a bit wild, well actually more than a bit wild if truth be told. I remember a friend bringing her mother to see us and remarking, that of course she wouldn't have it quite so untidy! Madam, the wild bits are still there. We can take criticism......and ignore it.
Ther are nettles still thriving in the back of the field.
There are brambles along the edges.
Docks grow under the fruit trees where some nettles also reside.....well everyone knows that you always need a dock leaf to kill the nasty itching from a nettle sting!

But violets have taken over some hidden spots.

Bluebells seed and multiply under the trees.

White honesty has naturalised all along the edges.

Forgetmenots grow and multiply so fast
 that no one can keep up with their naughty shenanigans in the long grass!

Lots more wildnesses have crept in quietly while we were looking the other way.

Down in the little wood where the brambles compete with the honeysuckle,
There's even a possibility that the sleeping beauty will wake up very soon........
isn't there a wedding happening this month ?

Sssshh! let her sleep.............

Monday, April 18

Sheila Fell at The Abbott Hall Gallery Kendal.

Abbott Hall  is a gallery in the lovely Lakeland town of Kendal.
The ride up from Morecambe on the back road is itself a delicious pleasure.

Ancient villages are surrounded by stone walls
and  gnarled trees close in overhead
 to cast their green shadows
on the unchanging landscape.

And then the new exhibition at the gallery is preceded
 by a scrumptious morning coffee and freshly baked goodies,
in the little cafe to the side.

Then I'm ready for the works showing in the gallery.
I first heard of Sheila Fell at The Clarke Gallery in Hale Cheshire.
She was Lakeland born and bred.
Sadly she died before she could reach her absolute potential.
However,  the paintings that I saw on Saturday,were more than convincing
of the future that would have been her's in years to come.
A hint of van Gogh, a touch of Cezanne's simplification
and more than enough of her own personality and fiestiness.
I think the lakes and northwest have produced women artists
who paint the landscape as if they were made of it's soil and rocks themselves.