...pretty poison in the back field...

The fungi are popping up everywhere in the back field in all their wonderful colours....

...they are not for the mushroom salad I will make for our meal today!!!

But how amazing are the shapes and colours that we see...

...some of these have appeared for the first time this year...

...I can't bear to get rid of them...

...fortunately there are no little children running around here nowadays.

Leighton Moss...Autumnwatch...

I was only 15 when I first came to The Bay...

 ..that's me looking like a tomboy rather than the glamorous two beside me!

...the Bay of course being...

...Morecambe Bay..

..with the most amount of sand in any of the British bays...though often...deadly....100 sq. mls of it!!

...it's quick...very quick!!

Skirting the bay is a wonderful nature reserve called ....

...Leighton Moss.

Up on a twitter site came the information that the BBC Autumnwatch  series this year was to be based by the bay.

So we went... and loved it...

...not so much because of the birds...we are not birders let alone twitchers..

...nor the deer just entering their rutting season...

..also interesting..

...and we didn't catch sight of the beavers...bah...

..no we just went to be nosey I suppose, and then got caught up in it's otherworldliness.

I took the Lumix Panasonic DMC-FZ45 with me to take some pics...

...but my tiddling little camera was as nothing compared to the whoppers owned by the serious snappers..

...why some even had a sort of structure on their back to hold the length of the thing!!

So I resorted in the end to my Apple ipad and took some views on Instagram...which I have to say is such fun!!

But you know me...I haven't yet worked out how to transfer them to my blog...

one day!

So here are a few pics taken with the camera..

and edited a smidgen on Picdeer, beavers, birdsMonkey.

..you can see that it's well worth a visit.

Maybe catch you there one day...who knows!!

A Poem for Thursday....in memorium Dave King

Such sad news tonight fromBrian of dVerse poetry blog...that the poet Dave King has died.

More than any of the internet poets he encouraged me as I tentatively moved back into writing...something that I had given up for years, after being published and knowing sucess in my 20s.

These two poems are in response to the prompt from Brian to write about someone who has encouraged and inspired us. And these two are written in memory of my father and my mother...who encouraged me in my youth to believe that I had someting to offer and a talent to be explored.

 The Irish Bull

He could spin a good story

That fellow.

He could make you believe

There were fairies.

Convince you that things

Were not just as you thought.

Suck you in

Wrap you round

Make a net with his words.

'Til you felt yourself dizzy

And losing perspective.

Believing his line

With it's hook 

And it's bait.

And the further you fell

For the twinkling words

The closer you came 

To believing his spiel.

Aye, he had a grand way 

With a story.

...thanks dad...

Mary

I walked along beside her

In war days.

Trusting her

That she should know the way.

Up the hill

Under the arching trees.

Down the lane 

Into the yard.

A foreign land of mud and hens.

Strong smells.

Scrubbed pine

And Mrs. Brown

Who sold us butter, eggs and bacon.

And then we walked away agin.

Down through the fields

Toward the smoking city.

While the mournful sounds of the curlew

Floated

Over the empty countryside.

...thank mum...

...and thankyou Dave for knowing you and your words.

This is for dVerse and is in memorium.

A Poem for Thursday...Poison.

After a gap of at least a year ...the fly agaric fungi are back...and in more numbers than ever.

Now I'm not unaware of the danger of these....deathly!!

...but they do hold a facination for me and a reluctance to throw them in the bin!!

...these exotic plants are succoured...if innocently ...by the Birch Grove in the field...each tree representing one member of the family...

...so the thoughts are there I'm sure you will realise of the many ways that relationships prosper or fail...within the family unit. 

...so the poem to go with it ......

Poison

Poison grows and spreads

in the garden.

Under the shivering birches

it grows.

Fiery and red 

it attracts my attention.

Birds and squirrels 

Sample it's wares.

But I am afraid

To touch it

Now.

So I leave it there

To prosper/ fester.

Just as Blake left the poison tree.

A Dark Facination remains

In me.

I've popped it on to you tube...but as it's my first foray into this medium...I've not yet discovered exactly how to put it with this post....

...so you will find it on the one before!!!!

I will succeed!!!

oh nearly forgot to link up with dVerse at the pub....

too much new stuff going on in my head!!

A Poem for Thursday.....Cill Charta...

National Poetry Day deserves a bit of attention I think....

...so my contribution comes out of the week spent in Donegal  this summer.....

happy memories...

...the crossroads...Cill Charta / Kilcar...

Cill Charta

The mist is down

Low hiding

Heather and bracken

Drop laden

Thin enough

To glimpse blue sky through

Soaking the skin

With western rain

Soft

As a lover’s touch.

 *

...grave and stone container

Cill Charta ancient graveyard .

Samuel Peranta is in charge of dVerse this evening.......so this is my contribution for National Poetry Day...thank you Samuel.

A Poem for Thursday.

To travel is to be nowhere.

You’re not here

And you’re not there.

So,

If you get the wrong train to somewhere,

Or you get off at

The wrong station for somewhere,

Does that mean

That you have completely disappeared?

And when the train gets to somewhere

Will they find that you are nowhere.

And how will you get back from there?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Herb Garden

I must get out into the herb garden 

and tidy up the shaggy remains of the rosemary and sage

 and all the other wonderful herbs that have given me such pleasure

 this summer

 as the heat of the sun

 released the scents and heady perfumes.

...right at the bottom 

is this wonderful Tamarisk tree...

...there is something magical about a Tamarisk..

.the ferny leaves and soft pink feathery blossom

 somehow 

seem out of place up here in the north west land...

yet it not only blooms for weeks  of enjoyment

but holds a grape vine in it's strong branches.

This year the warmth has given us many bunches of green grapes 

which I plan to turn into fragrant grape jelly.

...to the right of that is a little love seat ..

.made by the potter

 to catch the sun and the deliciousness of the garden

 and entwined in one of the chairs

 an everlasting perennial sweet pea 

given to me by my Irish brother many years ago.

...they say that a healthy sage in the garden

 is a sign of a wise woman!

Not too sure about that...

but it makes a goodly sage and onion 

 for the seasonal "bird"