On the road

3:30 p.m. On the way to shopping. 
Snow drifts. No sign of the cycle path.

5:30 p.m. Heading home.
Shopping was a good idea.
For tomorrow snow, rain and black ice are expected.
Schools across the country will therefore be closed.

Friday is Skyday

16:25

Seanhenge transformed into Snowhenge

Whether viewed from below ...

or from above:

Seanhenge has been transformed ...

into a Snowhenge.

However, there's no reason to complain. 

With blue skies and bright sunshine, 

even in freezing cold a walk is a pleasure.

Friday is Skyday

...

On the Road

Winter idyll.

However, heavy snowfall and storms are forecast.

Therefore, today so much was bought
that Seanhenge could easily be snowed in for a while. ;-)

First snow

Supermoonlightshadow ...

First snow not to immediately melt away.

A guard cat has already patrolled.

Then there was suddenly this lady.

Friday is Skyday

After a first glance at the garden ...

at roses ...

and rain barrel I knew:

This Friday there was the first winter sky ...

 

... with white magic along the road

Cold

. . .

Friday is Skyday

Balcony view, 14:15

 

Balcony view, 16:23

Laughing Lhursday

Window closed

Window opened

All day it was snowing

Seanhenge became Snowhenge.

First snow

Saturday morning looked like there'd be snow.

 

Sunday morning the first had arrived.

Laughing Lhursday*

Snowy primate.

* [For first time visitors]: Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Update
to prove Andrew (see comments) is right.

Baboon, still there
but disguising himself as a bush.

Moments of solitude

Like a great poet,
Nature knows to produce greatest effects
with most limited means.

– Heinrich Heine (13 December 1796 – 17 February 1856) –

At sparrow's fart

No idea what let
29 members of the sparrow gang
from the cherry laurel vis-à-vis
suddenly invade this part of Seanhenge.

 

Sunday in Seanhenge

There's enough for all,
but why should blackbirds be wiser,

a goldfinch contemplates.

 

Laughing Lhursday*

A wing mirror's wake
on a white winter morning
rhapsody in blue

* [For first time visitors]: Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

More snow

More snow ...

... to shovel.

Well, after breakfast.

 

Monochrome Monday

. . .

Lovely coincidence: Not only Mark celebrated a Monochrome Monday, too, but yesterday posted part One of last year's 52 Monochrome Mondays.

Head over then, enjoy A bleak and beautiful world of Monochrome and don't forget to let him know.

Update 2: And here – just posted – A bleak and beautiful world of Monochrome, Part two

After all

After a stormy night, yesterday ...

... the village(rs) woke up with a bit snow.

 

Crying for Caruso

This evening visiting Sian's blog and enjoying her photos of clouds bringing snow to Graemsay/Orkney, when reading of her daily feeding the wild birds, I immediately thought of a dear friend in Milan I met in February 2003 when he and I were engaged with Poets Against War (PAW). Giulio used to write at night. And often his emails ended with regards from him and Caruso, the blackbird that had just begun singing on his balcony.
Last Saturday was my friend's birthday, and I wished him well and asked, if Caruso had already serenaded him.
The answer: "I miss our blackbirds. We can no longer be their friends, the condominium saw to that- you can’t feed wild birds!"
The peace of the night.

This photo, taken on his balcony,
was attached to my friend's recent email.
A photo taken in June 2008 of 'Mister'
who might well have been a descendant of 'Caruso'.