Saturday, April 21

Visiting Humphrey II

The landscape stretching out from the Head is quite amazing.



A seemingly endless vista of sand and sky...
... soothing the mind and freeing the soul.

Large gullies form and reform with successive tides.



...and strange unearthly formations are constantly being brought into being.



Grassy areas grow and prosper...only to be decimated by storms that smash them and reform them elsewhere.



These are the Eastern Lakes in the distance...past the salt marsh sheep grazing on the herbal plain...


...and the mouth of the Bay to the south...stretching out across 100 square miles of emptiness...



...to the west the blue mountains of the Lake district ...


...and to the north ...the plain left behind when the ice receded.



We climbed up on to the top of Humphrey... and the wind though hardly noticable on the flat sands, gusted and pushed against us.

...the potter thought that he would give the wind a hand in the sculpting of this ancient thorn tree!

...you can only smile...

Wednesday, April 18

A Poem for Thursday


If You Remember The Sixties......


One ghost
Imposed upon another.
Two events-
One scene.
Lives intertwined,
Just as our own
Are now coiled together.

And all of us
Are
Formed from stardust.
Yet they-
Already dissolved-
Sparkling
In the present-past
With images preserved
Under glass.
Unpinned fragile butterflies.
Emerging from
Pandora’s box-
Entice.

I
Watch them
Dance on walls
Against which
Film is thrown.

Then…
From the sparkling chaos…
One butterfly emerges.
A purple empress
A red admiral.
Bright and dancing in the sunlight.
Passing by a blossoming tree,
With
Sweet promises of fruit.

Flutter of her hands,
Prancing up academic steps.
Flirting with her eyes,
The knowing of the effect.

Then gone forever.
And I am left
To rearrange the past
Once again.

(This poem is a response to the D.V.D. that we got for Christmas. There in all it's sparkling glory were the parents and yours truly with other members of the family in the 60s...Canada, graduatuion and garden parties. Oh my...I have to rethink a lot of it!)
So I'm offering this as a post for dVerse week 40 and hope that it's not too obscure, but that maybe someone else will rethink that era of their past...If they dare!
I'm also linking in to Hyde Park Poetry this week....Hello!

Tuesday, April 17

"Visiting Humphrey" I.

We had a neighbour way back when ...
...and mum was really, very friendly with her.
Her important "other" was called Humphrey.
Why does that still make me want to smile?
No offence meant for those who may read this and either know a Humphrey or be a Humphrey...
...but the name makes me think of some children's story where the animal say's, "I'm just a big old Humphrey"!
 Do you remember Sir Humphrey Appleby in "Yes Prime Minister"?
Or that the cat in No.10 Downing Street was named Humphrey after him?
Oh yes a very smile-inducing name indeed.

Well...there's a lump of glacial rock sticking out of the Bay on the northern shore...
...and what joy to find out that it is...
"Humphrey Head".
You know that I have to go there and be at that place!

So I pack picnic and off we go.
What a treasure.
I'll show the pics...because they speak louder than a book of words!

My adventure starts with this Willy Wagtail bobbing around at the car park end.
That's where the sands are silver and they butt up against the rock.


And this is the rock itself where the Peregrine Falcons fly and nest and are watched over with beady eyes !


The face of Humphrey is sheer and clad with spring green shrubs at the moment.


...and the rocks are coloured and ...I don't know what they are made of but... they are certainly beautiful!


They say that the glaciated mountains of the English Lake District are so old that they have been weathered more than the Alps or the Himalayas.
I heard this from my lovely friend....Anne Hodgkiss...illustrator supreme...sharer of knowledge.
(I love a person who shares information without making you feel stupid...yes?)



Just look at those pinks and blues!


A piece of abstract art I think.






...and some naturalist will hopefully inform me of just how pure the air is and how long these lichens have been here to manage that amount on the rock....

Enough for now ...
...except to show you this sad little inscription...
...with a bit of humour none-the-less...



"Beware how you these rocks ascend,
Here William Pedder met his end"!

Beloved Poem


Sheila Glen Bishop





And I've remembered always
Snailshells and butterflies
We trod between the seed pearl bubbles
Clinging to our hands
So cold, so beautifully cold
And white, so white the sand.


Photo taken on a Donegal beach.