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…
petits fruits rouges, en grapes, en vrac,
entre martinets et sourires,
là où le temps
Peerie red fruits clinging like grapes
in between swifts & smiles,
there, when time
locked in a
and then, as a poem,
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
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
precious stones of summer.
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 🙂
Filed under 2017, 60N, Arcania, blogging, celebration, earth, geopoetics, hairst, humanity, life, light, literature, north, poet, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, summer, world, writing
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
Always on the edge of the shrubs,
whilst your kind feasts
And yet you shine in your own way:
majestic crown of snow
bunting, you stand
you land –
if you’re not quite
you’re a sparrow,
light years away from the humdrum.
I’ve watched you feed
hours on end,
stand your ground,
you have your place among my trees.
© Nat Hall 2015
Filed under 2015, 60N, Arcania, birds, celebration, earth, geopoetics, life, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, spring, verse, verse poetry, world, writing
as gales gradually sweep away the harshness of winter, and birds begin to fill our sky with slightly bolder songs, a poem of love 🙂
Now come undone.
in between branches and
dawn’s pearls, as
blue dominated their
deep in ivy;
they fell on satin
burnt their game of
fell to prey,
pleasure & dust…
As furtive as dawn may vanish,
they will nestle in secret
warmth from an
in an orchard charged with
apples, cherries & love.
© Nat Hall 2015
Filed under 2015, 60N, Arcania, birds, celebration, colours, earth, fire, geopoetics, home, poetry, scotland, shetland, shore, spirit, spring, verse poetry, wind, world, writing
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
“fly hunter” captured yesterday afternoon (3 May 2014)
Mr 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.
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 🙂