Remember snow?

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Six months after this image was taken, and the garden is in full growth. The cherries on the tree are swelling and lichen is growing on the tree.

Life runs in cycles. Soon the height of summer will be with with us. I hope it isn’t too hot. I don’t do heat. Maybe lockdown will end. Hopefully the virus will be bought under control. Only a small percentage of people have died out of earth’s massive population, but that doesn’t make the pandemic any less devastating. Maybe it’s time to think back and remember all those people who have died. Stay safe.

X

Branches

A mess of branches

before they were covered in green.

When air was cold and blue,

when stems bore ice.

When it was cold at night.

It was chill, and the moon shone,

through miriad twigs.

When night lasted

in the cold darkness,

from early dusk,

to late dawn.

Now the sun rises early

the heat rises to meet it,

I wake up late and fall asleep

late,

in the warm morning air.

 

Solstice

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As the year waxes and wanes,

as time passes,

light rises and falls.

Life comes and goes,

hearing bird song, then silence.

Summer solstice,

the world is warm,

but days will shrink and shrivel.

Winter solstice,

the promise of warmth,

locked in ice,

day lengthens, nights slowly shrink.

North and South

seasons, polar opposites.

Hot in one hemisphere,

cold in the other.

Unless, near the equator,  

seasons are less obvious, 

No frozen wastes here.

World floating in space,

around Sol, the Sun, our star,

Earth tipped at an angle,

anchored by moon,

held in mutual gravity

Eternal?

 

 

 

 

The cold is seeping in….

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This is the first day of spring, but it feels like mid winter. Our house isn’t that well insulated and if it gets cold it stays cold, high ceilings means that the heat rises and warms the upper part of the room before it gets to us down here on the floor. The wind is gusting from the north and whistling through the gap round the seal in the front window and kitchen. We had new windows put in, but I guess they were cheap, all we could afford. The front door slams when you go through it because they measured it wrongly, so the top sticks out more than the bottom, giving it a very strange cant.

The North Wind cools the house, rubs the heat away as it pushes past the walls. Out kitchen bathroom extention only has thin walls. It really needs an insulating layer outside, but instead ivy is taking over and a wisteria has been planted at the end. Plants don’t keep us warm, but the blackbirds like to nest in it.

Now I’m cooking our evening meal, the heat from the oven adds a little to the warmth. I could microwave the food, but the gas cooker gives a bit of extra heat.

One day it will be warm outside, the leaves will grow, and we shall have spring and summer. X

Sprigs of spring?

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In months my garden

will be aflower,

floral fancies,

blooming anew.

But sadly now

the sight is of grey hue.

Cold sprigs of twigs

leaden coloured,

deadened stems.

Give them some sun,

some warmth

some food?

Then they will improve their mood.

I wait and cry

with many a sigh,

Looking around

For colour on the ground.

Daffodils and Tulips

Crocus and Snowdrops.

Then Bluebells and Violets,

will stir the air,

colours will flare!

Brighten the world,

set bees abuzz,

and waken my love,

of nature.

Storm “Dennis”

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Storm Dennis has been tipped as possibly more damaging than storm Ciara last weekend. We have had some strong gusts of wind, bending the Eucalyptus sapling we have growing in the garden, it’s leaves acting like sails, catching the wind, and bending it almost in half. The Leylandii in the neighbours garden has been whipping about and it’s branches seperating as the winds buffet it. Sometimes great gusts of air force themselves between the tree and the privet hedge at the bottom of our garden.

We are waiting for the heavy rain that is forecast, an Amber and Yellow warning has been set for the whole country. Even planes have been cancelled fir the passengers safety.

Britain is not a large island (or islands) but its shocking to think that storms can encompass the whole of it. Whether the heating of the atmosphere could be causing it? I don’t know, but you do have to wonder?…

Quiet day

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Today I have done a bit of work around the house, but apart from that I’ve had a quiet day. The weather is cold and windy, I have heard there is a major storm coming in off the Atlantic so I don’t think I will be doing much outside tomorrow. I feel like one of these birds in the tree. Perched up there, trying to huddle and keep warm…..

Have you opened the window again?

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Ooh its cold in here?

Have you opened the window?

Again?

Well I wanted fresh air!

So go outside!

You are heating up the atmosphere…

It’s minus 5 out there..

That’s why you’re wearing your coat in the house?

And the heating is on full…

And the extra heaters are on…

Are you mad?

Is it any wonder I get annoyed?

Red moon, blood moon…

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Before dawn someone in will die. The wolves are howling, it is not safe to go out…

So said the old man as he sat in the shack in the woods. He was with his best friend, a man twenty years younger, who had decided to visit for the weekend. I have my gun loaded, said the old man, I will protect us.

But no one has been killed by wolves in a hundred years, said his companion. Why do you think it will happen? Because of the blood moon came the stern answer.

As they settled down for the night clouds drifted over the moon, soon the storm hit. Snow fell deep, piling onto the shacks roof. One foot, two, four, finally eight. The snow was suffocating them, the fire had been allowed to burn low and suddenly snow fell down the chimney. The roof started to collapse, snow sifted in like sugar, through the cracks…..

The younger man woke with snow covering his face, cold, wet and smothering. It was pitch black, then the feeble rays of the blood moon penetrated the dark. With its help he struggled free. He had to locate his friend, the man was breathing, but unconscious. He dug him out with his hands and the help of the rifle.

Outside his truck was covered, it would take him ages to dig it out. Until then there was no chance of shelter. The shack was a jumbled mess.

All he could do was keep digging, hoping to get to a door, though whether his key would open the lock he doubted. It might be frozen shut.

A howl drifted through the night. The sound startled the digger who fought harder to shift the snow. The howl was closer, creeping towards them. He checked his friend, still breathing, but deathly pale and cold. If the wolves didn’t get them the freezing wind and snow would.

But slowly he was tiring, he had barely moved a few feet of snow. The sweat he was generating was freezing on his body. He started to shiver and his teeth chattered.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the glowing eyes. First two, then four, then more. He closed his eyes, waited for the bite….. It didn’t come. Instead he felt the warmth of one of the wolves leaning against him, then another on the other side. Wolves are large creatures and the weight of them pulled him down to the ground. The warmth after the cold was making him drowsy.

In the morning the search party found both of them, fast asleep. There were indentations in the snow showing where the wolves had lain down. A rough count showed that twenty or so wolves had slept around the two men, helping warm them.

Later the old man admitted he didn’t believe it, but it must be true. The gun would never be used again…

( don’t try this at home folks, it’s just a story,).