I’ve gone into the back catalog for my poem today, but the photos are fresh from this afternoon. We glimpsed spectacular cloud hanging over the mountains as we drove home, so I pulled the phone/camera out of my pocket and shot through the rainy windscreen.
Little, old mountains,
Ancient bones of an ancient land
Lie sprawled across the boundary of the plains;
Jagged and crumbling peaks
Are cloaked in vegetation
Scarcely younger than the rocks themselves.
The ancient crone
Hugs secrets to her breast.
On certain clear sky
the late-rising sun
shines clear across
where I sleep –
the eastern window
bright on to the curtain
of the window
The shadows cast themselves
from trees and leaves
and feathers on dream-catchers –
blown by the rising wind
a morning puppet show.
The photo at the top is of those shadows, dancing on the curtain. The second pic is the feathers on a dream catcher – made for me by my son’s partner, Janina, and finally – a spectral shadow of flowers from when bright sunshine was split into its component colours by a piece of faceted glass. I think I have at least one in every window on the sunny sides of our house.
Personally, I think that winter mornings are best spent in a warm bed, with tea and toast to hand.Most days I have to get up and get on with life, though. I wrote this piece early one morning when I didn’t have to get up for a while.
No sun yet,
but enough light
that the sky shows
reveal and conceal
the rind of moon
in the northern sky.
In the eastern window
clouds sail past
as stately as galleons
and the light grows,
staining the clouds
Still no sun,
I took these photos on the way in to work this morning (I was the passenger – it’s okay!). It was foggy when we left Moyston, cleared after Carol’s Cutting, and was foggy again when we reached Ararat. Ah, winter…
It’s winter “downunder”, and our capital, Canberra, is a long way from the moderating influence of the sea – which means plenty of frosty mornings, hopefully followed by bright clear sunshine. On such days the afternoons seem quite warm, even though the thermometer says otherwise…
We are leaving
On a frosty
7.30 and minus 2 –
and so cold.
On the homeward bus
Dozing in a sunbeam
These two photos were taken on the day before we left – it was only about 10C, but it seemed much, much warmer in the sun!
When we left, the grass was crisply white, and wisps of fog around the hills were lit up with golden light from the rising sun. We moved twice on the bus, trying to escape the aching brilliance of morning light on our faces, but the warmth was very welcome.
The view from my daughter’s dining room window – it’s usually green over beyond the fence…
I wrote this on the bus on my way to Ararat last weekend. It was one of those days, typical of winter in our region, in which warm sunshine came and went all day, taking turns with the clouds and a stiff, cold breeze. I didn’t take photos – I don’t think they would have worked very well through the bus window – so I’ve picked some with shadows from our Trip of a Lifetime, which was three years ago this month…
The clouds part
Paddocks glow green
Stripe across the road.
Then it’s gone again
A smudge of tree shadow
Blurs on the road.
The top pic is in Tacoma, opposite the Washington State Museum, the second in Seattle, and the last in the glorious urban forest in Portland, which adjoins the Arboretum, Japanese Garden and an amazing Rose Garden. It was on that walk that we saw our first Hummingbirds, and our first Banana Slug. The slug is much easier to photograph…
I’m still in Canberra until early tomorrow morning. It’s going to be cold and dark when I have to leave here to catch my bus, and it’s cold and dark by 6pm as well…Although the sun came out in the afternoon yesterday, there wasn’t enough sunshine to dry the washing, so as darkness fell, Zoe brought the damp things inside to dry on the stair rail below the heater. Juniper thought she might help…
This afternoon, once the fog cleared and the sun came out, we went for a walk and bought a clothes horse, to take the pressure off the railing…
This week I’m in Canberra, Australia’s (bush) capital, where even foreign Embassies are homes among the gum trees, and the sports fields are populated with cockatoos, galahs and grass parrots. It is also where my daughter, her partner and Juniper live (along with Maisey, Daisy and Zelda, Juniper’s fur sisters). At five o’clock last night, evening was already drawing in, grey and cold.
A few minutes later, Juniper had just awoken from a long winter’s nap, and Zoe called me upstairs to see the beautiful sunset-
which made up for a rather cold grey wintery day. We stayed out on the balcony just long enough to take photos, before taking refuge back in the nice warm room again.
I had a nice quiet day at home today. Unlike Lisa,who has her son Ryan to think up interesting places to be in the week’s specified time period, not much was going on between 4 and 5 pm. Which is fine by me.
I made a cake – two cakes at once, actually. I have two fabulous old bar tins, ‘sourced’ from op shops/thrift stores, and they are the perfect size to turn one batch of basic butter cake into two – one for now, one for the freezer. I put some roasted rhubarb, quince and strawberries in the middle, and garnished the ‘one for now’ with slices of fresh fig. I can’t wait to get the proper food out of the way so I can eat cake. Yum.
It’s the third day of winter, according to the calendar, and by 5 o’clock it’s almost dark and distinctly gloomy outside, but it’s all cosy in our lounge, with the fire burning and plenty of cushions on the chairs.
Next week I’ll have to remember to take my photos a day earlier, so I can keep posting on the same day. I’m not sure how I’ll go once the hours get past bed time!
It was a cold, clear morning, but not frosty. Blue, blue sky and cootamundras coming into bloom, bright in the morning sunshine. The buds of the flowering peach are fattening and showing pink at the tips. As the last month of winter approaches, spring is beginning to appear. We’ve had a lot of rain – every thing is soggy and green, farmers have high hopes for their crops. The ‘Autumn Break’ held off until nearly June, but once it came, the bulbs leapt into life, pushing up leaves and buds in record time. Somehow, the jonquils have managed to flower at the usual time- except, strangely, for the Earlicheer, which hasn’t flowered at all.
Yesterday we had fog until midday, chilly and bleak. I like this sunshiny version of winter much better. I can’t imagine what it is like living through winter in the far north of the planet, in darkness night and day except for a meagre couple of hours, when the red ball of the sun creeps over the horizon, only to creep back again so soon – if it is ever visible through the clouds.
Fresh can mean different things – it’s one of the things we love (and hate) about the English language.
Here’s an image of a fresh (chilly) evening – the sun declining rather early, a good fire essential to keep the grey rainy atmosphere at bay…
Fresh can also mean flirty, cheeky, a bit naughty. Like Albus(aka Albert), lurking down behind a chair in the corner, hoping for a tummy rub.
Then there’s fresh fruit, fresh flowers, fresh flavours, fresh fish… I could go on, but I’m fresh out of ideas. Self-serve frozen yoghurt for dessert in Portland, Oregon – as fresh as it gets! Just looking at the photo sets my mouth watering at the memory of the tasty delights inside (and so far away!).
The wallabies around here are also fresh, breaking into my garden for a feed of fresh violet leaves, roses, geraniums, sparaxis …etc, etc.