Tag Archives: garden

redcurrants

redcurrants.jpg Monsieur Proust had his madeleine, I have my summer berries…

Loved my Sunday yesterday. Ingirid invited a small paty of us to play with her in her garden. She is at the helm of a magical eden where everything seems to grow in both open air and in polytunnels… Just magic. A list of tasks were clearly scribbled on postcards. Ingirid pointed out two areas: peaches to be harvested from well established trees in one polycrub, and, that secluded corner where gooseberries, black and redcurrants ripen in the sun. So much flew back inside my poet’s mind. Whilst the first task was achieved at lightning speed, that latter harvest heaved a bowlful of those tiny summer gems, as well as poetics.

As in micropoetry form at first…

 

Les groseilles

petits fruits rouges, en grapes, en vrac,

entre martinets et sourires,

là où le temps

tournait

en

rond.

Redcurrants

Peerie red fruits clinging like grapes

in between swifts & smiles,

there, when time

locked in a

circle.

and then, as a poem,

 

Redcurrants

 

You, scarlet gems so well hidden.

So delicate, in

one corner of a garden, where my hands search in between

leaves, guardians of time – where

time writes fate in

chlorophyll…

I still

remember when

I first found you as a child,

crouched against earth and loneliness,

that thin mesh, invisible cage to let the sun work

miracles after each battering of rain.

You, tiny gems so well

hidden, you

are

precious stones of summer.

 

NH 2017

 

Later, a feast awaited us as we gathered in the garden to share a marvellous Sunday afternoon. I love gardening parties. So much to enjoy from such capsules of time.

Thank you, Ingirid 🙂 

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Filed under 2017, 60N, Arcania, blogging, celebration, earth, geopoetics, hairst, humanity, life, light, literature, north, poet, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, summer, world, writing

different

friday afternoon’s verse, away from the material, “artificial” world that agitates striped black or grey suited people, locked in a tower of greed, blinded by glittering obsessions.

It is on the topic of difference & inclusion.


You, Little Albino Sparrow


Look at yourself among the crowd,

you don’t quite mingle with

the rest.

Always on the edge of the shrubs,

in-and-out like

an intruder,

whilst your kind feasts

in oblivion.

And yet you shine in your own way:

majestic crown of snow 

bunting, you stand

out wherever

you land –

and 

if you’re not quite

a captain,

don’t 

you

forget 

you’re a sparrow,

fierce,

quarrelsome,

original,

light years away from the humdrum.

I’ve watched you feed

hours on end,

don’t be

afraid

to

stand your ground,

you have your place among my trees.

© Nat Hall 2015

  

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Filed under 2015, 60N, Arcania, birds, celebration, earth, geopoetics, life, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, spring, verse, verse poetry, world, writing

together

Here,
as gales gradually sweep away the harshness of winter, and birds begin to fill our sky with slightly bolder songs, a poem of love 🙂

Together

Now come undone.

Into
the garden
they gathered,
in between branches and
dawn’s pearls, as
blue dominated their
world, and
blackbirds dreamt
deep in ivy;

Asleep
they fell on satin
leaves,
as sunrise
burnt their game of
lust,
entangled in
jet black
iris
that
fell to prey,
pleasure & dust…

As furtive as dawn may vanish,
they will nestle in secret
leaves,
feel
warmth from an
afternoon
sun,
flutter
along sweet
summer breeze,
in an orchard charged with
apples, cherries & love.

© Nat Hall 2015

through the green

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les visiteurs

 Come rain or shine, they come to perch around our trees; court, call, quarrel and congregate, they, socialising animals. Here, a trio of images to celebrate those delightful garden visitors. House sparrows, once a common sight all around the United Kingdom, still thrive on the edge of the realm. They flock to whiz around our homes – females always seem to arrive first at grain feeders… They sometimes flock in numbers up to 25 on alders’ tops. Here, a very devoted parent (male) with a bill full of flies 

Image

“fly hunter” captured yesterday afternoon (3 May 2014)

ImageMr Robin favours a quiet time away from the crowd. Though elusive and so furtive, he perched and posed like a top model. He was heard here and there from March around fence posts… Always a delight to hear and watch.

Image Mrs Sparrow lit by an evening sun, as captured yesterday evening. Delight 🙂   

Surprisingly, starlings are not as visible as usual, with fewer numbers actually coming to perch or feed – even though it is the time of the breeding season, Sparrows appear to have topped the podium so far. No sign of wren either. I wonder if they too have fallen victim to last winter’s continuous stormy conditions…

Although chiffchaff was heard, am still waiting for other visitors, such as bramblings or siskins, to adorn the garden.

Let’s see  what those SE winds will bring this week 🙂

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