Showing posts with label water. Show all posts
Showing posts with label water. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 10

Looking for the Penketh Kingfisher....

 We go regularly to try and see a kingfisher on the brook nearby.

Never have.

But  often meet up with those who have...and feel a bit miffed that it's so elusive for us!


The brook is first seen at the bottom of the lane by The Potters House Penketh on Heath Road.


We stand at the bridge and gaze over...but though the view is lovely...no kingfisher.


We walk through the housing estate to the brook as it travels ever down to the Mersey...
No kingfisher...though this morning a post on social media rejoiced at the sight of it flying across the the water!
So the best I can do is post this poem written after another unsuccessful lockdown search.....

               

 Kingfisher

I went looking each day    for the kingfisher

where it had been    when it was seen

no sign   no joy   when I went looking

 

I saw the skinny long-legged fisherman

his steely presence   stately gaze

coiling his neck in a waiting game

but never the fisher-king

 

by park   canal   by river and brook

no splash of water   no flash of blue

nor was it seen on the brim of my ken

when I went looking

 

I saw swans glide and paddle   their full-wings

poised   posing for artists   cygnets behind

in a frothy wake   by some willow herb

but nowhere the Penketh bird

 

I am abandoned   covet the sight

long for his beauty   cut to the quick.

Geraldine Snape Jan 2021

 


Monday, November 6

November 6th Snape Maltings on the river Alde.

It's no wonder that Peter Pears and Benjamin Britten choose Snape to set up their music festival in the old malting buildings.
It's a magic place and I love that we have to go regularly to take the potter's ceramics to the gallery. 
I've taken pics every year for...oh it seems for ever.
and these are a combination of several years of photography. I've picked out my favourite ones.
The ones that take me back there when I look through the photo files.






Monday, April 18

Sunday's Short Story.

I know it's Monday...but we left the house on the Bay...Sunday evening, and scudded down the old M6 to catch The Durrell's on the box...so no time to post as we cope very nicely without WiFi in the Bay house.

(...an aside...
...the bay sunset, which is renowned anyway, was especially beautiful on Saturday because of the stormy weather....I just had to run out and catch the end of it before the sun went down.)



Prompt


The prompt from Pat F.on Thursday at The Writer's Workshop was a challenge. Not that it isn't always a challenge for me...but this one stumped me for a while. But the only thing to do in that situation is to go with the first idea that comes .. and run with it. We only have a bit over an hour to write before we read the results to each other....so here it is...

Albert was not yet ready to share his age with Ivy. She had been told that his birthday was coming up, But as his secretary she needed to be careful about broadcasting it around the office. After all Albert was the boss.The company had been good to her. Life was difficult enough since Syd died. She was still coming to terms with an empty house every evening.Ivy felt angry about it all although she knew that his family had a history of heart attacks. Nevertheless, being who she was, one who copes, it was just a few weeks after Syd's funeral that she determined to get herself a job, and get back into a daily routine.To have Albert as her boss was more that she had dared to hope for.She did have a lot of experience noted down on her c.v. But with so many people applying for so few positions, she realised that in this she had fallen on her feet.....or to be more precise...on the office chair!

Her office wall abutted Albert's office wall. And regularly she would either be in his room taking notes or receiving lists of jobs to be achieved, Or Albert would breeze into her office. No knock of course, just striding in and sitting on the edge of her desk with a file or USB to peruse But recently often it had often been with a mug of coffee at the start of the business day. That was quite a thing! In her last job she had always been expected to be both office worker and tea girl for the whole  floor. 

He was no Adonis, Albert P. Shingle. Sometimes when she thought about it she had a giggle over the name...Shingle! Was it an illness or a beach? She preferred to think it was a beach.And what did the P stand for if anything? Some people put a middle letter into their signature to make it more memorable. Of course it might just be Peter or Paul or maybe Phillip. But she liked to think it was exotic...maybe Peregrine to counteract the blandness of Albert.! Oh dear as the months had gone by that she was thinking more and more about his life outside of the office, And today she knew that he would celebrate his fiftieth. Surely it couldn't pass by unmentioned?
Someone elsewhere in the company must be planning a surprise. No word of this forthcoming...at least none that she had heard of. Her job was precious. She loved the work. She was good at it she discovered. Better than she ever imagined she would be She would let the day pass by.

Every day Ivy made sure that all she did and even what she wore was as professional and efficient as she could make it. She was taking much more thought over her appearance than she had done for many years. Was that her being professional, or did she feel at forty three she still had a lot of living ahead of her? With no children from her marriage to care for life was starting anew .So there would be no way she was going to throw a spanner in the works and step forward now to plan something for Albert's birthday.
But there were little things she could do without making an issue of it. She put a bunch of spring flowers in a pretty jug on the side of the desk - not too ostentatious just enough to sweeten the often stale office air. She bought a packet of triple chocolate biscuits to offer when he arrived  with her coffee. She wore a new blouse she had bought at the weekend. Still a crisp white cotton but with a little pie crust collar on it. And in these small ways she hoped her boss would know that she recognized both the day and also the position she held in the company.
At nine fifteen as usual Albert stepped into her office. Coffee in hand, he smiled. She offered him a cookie. He took one and hesitated. 
"It's my birthday Ivy. I was wondering if you would join me this evening for dinner? I've taken a chance that you might say yes and booked a table at a local restaurant...what do you say?"

The flowers bloomed and shared their perfume in the room, out through the door and into the rest of the building!

Oh dear...cheesy end...but what to do when Pat says.."Five more minutes and then we shall read!"
Well you bring it all to conclusion...and who doesn't love a happy ending anyway!!

By the way you could see more of my pics on my Instagram site...if you were of such a mind!!
geraldinesnape...documenting the mundane

Wednesday, February 6

Restore my Soul...

I have needed my soul and emotional equilibrium restored recently....and today another blow came with a first class letter from the hospital....
I am actually amazed at how much we can take...and perhaps it's as we build on the past and realise we are still here that it happens.
I listened to the wonderful interview with Simon Armitage and Seamus Heaney last week...Heaney said that his work was built on the foundations of those poets who have gone before ...or words to that effect...

Being up at the Bay in the storm...you couldn't help but think back to Masefield's wonderful sea poem...
..."I must go down to the sea again,
to the lonely sea and the sky"....

So although I wrote this before I listened to Seamus Heaney.......Masefield's poem was deep inside me.







The sea ,the sea,
The roiling sea.
I must go down 
To sate my need.

My need , my need,
To sate my need.
For elemental 
Wind and water.

The wind, the wind,
The sucking wind.
Within my soul
It succours me.

My soul, my soul
That succours me.
Come claim me back
Come wind, come sea.




This is one for dVerse today.http://dversepoets.com/2013/02/05/openlinknight-week-82/#comment-29436http://dversepoets.com/2013/02/05/openlinknight-week-82/#comment-29436..I'm almost last in the pub...but just made it.

I'm adding Poetry Jam on the bottom of this post...just found a super poem on twitter

Tuesday, July 31

Sunday at Grange-over-Sands




It was Prom Art again on Sunday ...gosh it comes around so fast I can hardly get my breath.
Well... we love Grange and The Prom Art...but not the rain that stopped the people from promenading with their families and dogs!
So it was a matter of covering up the stall and in the heavy showers hauling in the paintings while the ceramics could look after themselves!
    
  The stall looked good..
...even in all the wetness!



.and Robert....chief organiser, if you don't count his gorgeous wife !...
was to be seen as usual, walking up and down the prom encouraging us.


 yellow hat glowing... so we would know that he was around.








We had some new tiles on the stall...         
               hares......!






 yes... I know you all realise I'm besotted with them at the moment...




                       but there you go!




...you must blame Derek Jarman's cottage for it all!













There's always a bonus at Grange.....
...the bay was glorious with massive rain clouds  hanging over the hills around Arnside...
I just had to take loads of pics...








Then just to be seen away in the distance at the oppposite side of the bay...
...leading his people like a modern day Moses across the treacherous sands....
the Queen's Guide, Cedric Robinson

I listened to two little girls discussing the sands...
..." If you fall in there the sand will swallow you up"...
...unbelieving look..."Really?"

Well it could have been a Dr. Who moment!

Tuesday, July 3








Patterns of Spain

Tuesday, June 5

poem




Pure silver
Links
A chain
Now broken
Then reformed
Ever closer
Built up
By hinterlinks
Fed
By multitudes of diamonds
Noiselessly creeping
Imperceptibly
Moving
Over dryness
Over sand
Till
We are surrounded
Taken by surprise
Taken by water.

I'm linking up to dVerse open link night week 47 with this poem.

Wednesday, May 30

Woody Guthrie...The Man in the Sand.






Go down to the water where the oil floats by
And drop your head down and cry
And write with your finger in the sand
And mail it out with the tide
Mail it out with the high and the low
And watch the marks on the sand
And listen to the fog on the homeless waves
And feel the salt sea in your hand.

Smell the sea wind - taste on your lips
That foam that rolls over my lost ships
And write your letter once more in the sand
Where the breaker dips and the undertow slips
And when nobody's looking - kiss your hand
And touch to the nose of your man in the sand
And then lay down with your head on his chest
And be nice to your man in the sand.

I'm just a sucker for the sea and poetry... and it's got them together in bundles here..

Thursday, February 3

A Poem for Thursday.



journeying



Whether Greek or Roman
Portuguese or Arabian,
the sea
and it's endless roaring
is the history
of Moors and Phoenicians
Africans and Indians.
Forever coming
forever going.
Through war
and peace
sudden storm and unearthly calm.
Of Noah and Columbus
Vasco da Gama and the Vikings.
All journeyers
and all travellers
moving ever outward.
God must love water very much.
He made so much of it
and in such wonderful places in the world.
Today
a wind is in from Africa
turning the blue
into splashes of white.
Seething and playing catch up
on this ancient sea.