Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts

Thursday, February 18, 2021

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.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

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) –

Tuesday, February 16, 2021

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, February 14, 2021

Sunday in Seanhenge


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


a goldfinch contemplates.

 

Thursday, February 11, 2021

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.

Tuesday, February 09, 2021

More snow

More snow ...

... to shovel.

Well, after breakfast.

 

Monday, February 08, 2021

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.

 

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

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'.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Fab Feb End

I had a fine walk.
No golfers around.
:)

Monday, February 20, 2017

In the Wood

You look at what's happening last night in Sweden*.
Sweden! Who would believe this? Sweden!
We got to keep our woods trump-free.

* A wooden moose got the attention of a lovesick moose bull. It all happened in 79 year old Ove Lindqvist’s garden in Byske outside Skellefteå, northern Sweden. ”I thought it was going to start a fight, instead it humped the wooden moose thrice”, he said. [Afdonbladet]

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Snow – now and then

Today's snow's nothing
compared to many winters
many years ago.

Friday, January 08, 2016

Surpr_eye_se

Resisting the frost
some hollyhocks of Seanhenge
blooming in winter


Thursday, January 31, 2013

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Monochrome Monday

Coldness makes
smoke creeping in the horizontal.
Any similarity to any caste system is merely coincidental.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Monochrome Monday

Finding its way through the poplars.

Thursday, December 27, 2012