A single flake of snow falling at my feet
A holiday with people and dancing feet
Tells Christmas comes with joy to meet

As the winter wind blows strong and cold
Down the steep valley and across the wold
Scarves come out and around our necks fold

Hush the wind roaring around the gable
In the nights that draw tight, colour of sable
Come inside food and wine is laid on the table

A year leaves at midnight with many chimes
Another year enters with cheers and rhymes
Think all night about the coming happy times

If I have a wish it is that you are always there
Warm and loving and full of tender care
A part of my world that is vibrant and aware

My dearest friend through all the years
You lived my dreams and saw my fears
Always for you a Christmas full of cheers

Oh well that was a little heavy and I thought about changing or deleting it but I’ll keep it as it was written. So something a little cheerier is this picture of a dog peering from a balcony in Tarragona (Spain). Cute or what?

19th Dec 2006

The inexorable advance of humankind toward our destined equality falters and yet despite all the odds still maintains impetus. We drive the world in our way by refusing to turn against one another and by questioning everything. This is the true spirit of the season for each one of us. When words to describe the witnessed pain of the world fail us, where shall we turn to convey our expressions of impotence? The whole world seems to be dissolving into a madness of hate fuelled pain tempered in brief with inconsequential material or physical delights. Pause, take a sigh, exhale and seek reason if you can. The world will do as it must and those with enough wisdom perceive guiding hands driving the madness behind the thrones. We must endure insanity and bear this desired malevolence. Speak out if you must but your rage may rebound and crash around you like a wave driven headlong to break on a shingled beach and policies of harm masquerading as cries of heretic will be the rounded pebbles striking you down into the foaming water. For they will silence you…for they all have a plan for the world that is either a bloody broth of money or religion stirred malevolently in a cauldron of pain. All we may do is love one another and bear this together till joy one day sets us free and peels away all the lies. We must all take one hate or prejudice carried within and set it free to float away forever with the passing year

Thursday 14th Dec 2006

Just driven home being buffeted by the strong winds and lashing rain. Quite warm overall though and no sign of any frost (or snow) anytime soon. All the work protecting plants from the frost hardly seems worth doing till January these days. The house is ready for Christmas with flashing lights and various decorations scattered about the place.

Tuesday 12th Dec 2006

Finally got all the stuff working again after what seems an age, but was in reality a couple of days. All those junk e-mails and e-bay bargains that I missed...not!! Still been creative at work and updated the mill database with a snowman dancing in the falling snow. I am not sure it will be appreciated but its Christmas. Weather is wild and wet at the minute and looks to continue that way for the next few days. Oh and another item for the list was all the lights fusing this morning...what next!!

Friday 08th Dec 2006

Well I was going to write an e-mail to everyone but the phone line is down so the internet connection is lost. Ah for the old fashioned way of scribing the words onto cellulose. I really should write more personal letters to people but it’s so easy to take the modern way. I would have watched Sky but that’s not working either so overall not having a good day at all. Still luckily yesterday while it was still on I downloaded a trial version of Microsoft Office 2007 professional and I have been having a good look. First impressions are that it’s very good. I shall definitely buy it when it comes out on general release. It’s a 60 day trial by the way...well worth a look. Just remember to save any new files in your existing formats if you don’t think you will be keeping the new version once the trial finishes or you will have lots of newly created files that can no longer be opened with your existing versions of software.

06th Dec 2006
The holiday is over and the sun now a memory fading into dismal days that heralds ever closer evenings till the change of days later in the month. Still the holiday while it lasted was very enjoyable. It was a quiet and relaxing week in the sun, with good food and lots of rest. Now I am back it does seem strange to encounter the cold and the rain but I shall think of the holiday if the weather gets me down. Enjoy the picture of the dunes at Maspalomas

I managed to get some reading done on holiday. A great book called "The Great War for Civilisation" by Robert Fisk. Quite a lengthy tome but full of amazing stories about his life as a reporter and also a detailed history of the Middle East. Given we are currently living through the strangest of times it seems right that we should understand the region a little more. My only regret is that perhaps we should have done that several years ago. One thing in these wars for ideas and land is the notions of sovereignty people are ready to fight and die for. Hard for us to understand as our nation sovereignty remains intact and has not been redrawn to suit outside powers seeking buffer zones or a military or ideological advantage. Here is the link to the Foyle’s website about the book…sooner or later it must all stop and perhaps we can all move together as one free of advantage and religious hatred.

http://www.foyles.co.uk/foyles/display.asp?isb=1841150088&TAG=&CID=

24th Nov 2006

I hope Gran Canaria is nice and warm, as it’s rather damp and miserable here at the minute although for the most part rather mild. The trees have mostly given up their leaves but quite a few are stubbornly clinging onto them. It’s a typical autumnal feel to the day…cool enough to be warmed by the thoughts that mass on the border of consciousness and are released with intensity into the stiff wind. I look up into the sky to count the clouds but there is only a homogenous grey mass so I try to count the birds but the weather is cold and they are all sitting in the trees. So I wait till night to count the stars and see the clouds roll away and dissipate leaving clear, cool air and the stars shine in the ebenous glassy sky like a benison and I count and wish on every one. For nothing that comes without cost or effort is ever worth anything.

It’s a day for the song ‘Sara’ by Fleetwood Mac with Stevie Nick’s vocals floating ethereally through my head. It has a dreamlike quality that always takes me outside of current time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmQ_1sXZJxI

Classics like the incomparable songs of Kate Bush ‘Babushka here’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKMSEWVQ3PI

Or Oleta Adams ‘When love comes to the rescue’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwApPsvY8QY

Another great clip
NIKE (Great ad = Gavin Henson)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuvGWLgsSIM

A great YouTube clip

Shayne Ward (singing Somewhere over the rainbow) from a show called the X factor…great song. Be patient the song is worth waiting for.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzN_1gYimbc

21st Nov 2006

Happy birthday Nick (who is 44 tomorrow).

Cool wintry days and dreams of warmer climates spur me on till the weekend when I can depart the UK for a week in the sunshine. Injecting a week of hot weather at this time of year makes the forthcoming snowy season all the more enjoyable. It’s kind of surreal to step off a plane to 25 degrees when my body clock is geared for the cold. Time was when I was afraid of my body and beaches were a place to avoid. But growing older and having the most wonderful people around who love me for the person has dissipated that spectre like a fog on a summer dawn. That’s a good feeling because no matter how hard you try to look good it’s all doomed to fall at some point. Some part of the body will slowly start to dance out of sequence and if you don’t accept it you’ll spend the rest of your life missing the rhythm. I believe most people don’t give a monkey for looks really…give us a good meal and a glass of wine and music and film. It’s all media manipulation and ego for the others. We live in strange times and how will it all end I often wonder?

20th Nov 2006

Nights chill and darken with every day that passes. The blessed land slumbers still and damp lit by a crescent moon that accentuates the hushed longing for summer. Steely hued yet soft it casts shadows likes a cloak woven with threads of silver. A mantle of mystery to wrap a gilded landscape in. Soft footsteps and gentle breath wind among paths long tread under arching beeches. Sylvan descent indeed are we who leave the world behind and embrace the cool delicious nights of winter.

Amy Winehouse

Sunday 05th Nov 06

Weather has grown much colder here over the last week with some sharp frosts. I am getting into the swing of winter a bit more now since the clocks went backwards. Full moons hanging large in clear skies and the swirls of crisp brown leaves, crunching underfoot. The cruel cold heightens the senses to razor sharp clarity and ensures a wonderful appreciation of the warmth. How narrow when one considers it is the human temperature comfort zone?

I am listening to the Amy Winehouse song "rehab" at the minute. It is monumental music, sad and 60’s groovy all at the same time…I really love it. Go to Youtube at this address (click the link) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD5sahXoj0U and listen. I am sure you will grow into it if you give it a chance. Yes Amy and neither are we! I’m just bidding for it on e-bay at the minute (vinyl record promo…getting expensive though. Amy looks a little like my sister (well 20 years ago.) One cool lady,…. And nice to like a rebel for a change.

29th Oct 2006

Nice to know that the clouds still can part and smile sunbeams through the autumn. Sunlight on exposed skin is the most exquisite feeling. It’s been a beautiful day with clear views across the Ribble valley into the Lakes. If you have never seen the wonders of the north of England think of hobbit simplicity and imagine the Shire. We don’t have all these counties in the UK ending in shire for nothing…Tolkein was clever. The clocks went back one hour last night and that has made the whole day deliciously elastic and stretched. I feel a little jet lagged now at its close. So enjoy the picture took a little while ago of the ladder against the willow tree. This willow by the way is 20 years old and was the first tree I ever planted.

25th Oct 2006

Sunny spells and wind turns to showers and the chill in the air grows ever more prominent. It’s actually quite mild all things considered but we Brits do like to rabbit (talk) on about the weather. Daylight decreases ever onward and as the autumnal equinox has passed we are into more night than day again. I miss the bright nights and the joy of alfresco living. 20 years ago in this part of the country you could count on one hand the number of times I could come home from work and sit out with a glass of wine and something suitably Mediterranean to eat. This year I lost count and probably easier to count the times I couldn’t enjoy the outdoors. Life in summer is sweet…sweet as the ripest peach. When I am old and grey (not too far away) my recollections for the most part will revolve around the summers I have lived through. For me spring leading to summer is the nearest we get to a glimpse of heaven. For these seasons inspire growth and well being. Winter beckons now and although there are joys in the season they are the greater because we know that summer will come again. Here is a picture of summer in the garden.

20th Oct 2006

Just come back from the garden. It’s a typical autumn day with light rain and grey skies and the damp seems to permeate everywhere. But it was nice to spend a soggy hour looking around and even weeded my little winter cabbage plot. There has been a bumper crop of fungi this year. Although I am quite sure that none of it is the edible kind sadly. Ask to why there is so much? Maybe the weather, but I like to think it is due to the trees and all the extra leaf-mould that is created as the leaves drop. Or because we leave wood to decay naturally on the ground as it would in the wild. Whatever the reason I take it as a good sign that the garden ecosystem is in good shape. The leaves have dropped their leaves much later this year and even though we are approaching November many are still green. The first frost will arrive soon so I need to get some of the plants wrapped up safe and warm. I neglected to do that last year and though there were no casualties it did impede the spring growth a little. I have already brought the banana plant in to the house. It is becoming quite imposing but we can live with that. Hey think of the old days when the cattle came into the living space and a banana plant doesn’t seem so bad.

Sunday 2nd Sept 2006

England so recently dry and hot in July has had the coolest, wettest August so we can only hope that September improves. A warmer end to the year with enough time to enjoy some alfresco sunny days and evenings with a Mediterranean salad, glass of wine and a cigarette (before they ban that everywhere too.) But don’t get me started on that. For to me eating outdoors with people that we care about is one of the nicest pleasures. The smallest garden, yards or terraces suddenly become hospitable places. Pity it has to end with the onset of autumn and the retreat back indoors to sit out the winter.

Sunday 27th August 2006

Had a beautiful drive from Clitheroe to Lancaster through the Trough of Bowland. The weather was a mixture of sunshine and cloud that gave everything the texture of a watercolour. If ever my six numbers come to fruition I know where I shall be heading to look for a new property. It’s a world of old villages and churches set in rolling hills framed by blazing purple moorland. Everything reeks of permanence and continuity bound within the natural world. Had a brief detour to Morecambe and I want to use the word decaying grandeur about the place but mostly it’s decaying and rather strange. It has none of the exuberance of Blackpool, or the class of Southport. Shame really as it has splendid views over a wide, arcing bay and the hills of the Lake District.

In blackened yellow flash a solitary wasp works long into the encroaching dusk. Her fevered searching reveals nothing on this grey evening and I empathise from a safe distance. I can sense her resolve that tonight is fraying under a damp August evening as nothing remotely, edibly insectoid stirs under the leaves of the bay tree, or the arching fronds of the tree fern. I try to place myself into her sentience, but it is hard. Yet I never doubt that she is driven to find food to take back to a waiting queen anxious for the state of her nation. A nation encapsulated within a labyrinth of papery cocoons. Every chamber a royal dynasty waiting for the founding breath of spring. I imagine a low murmur seeps through the nest as yet another worker returns empty-handed from the field. How does this worker bear the burden of all this succession without any seeming gain? That all revolves around her and if she fails all is lost and her line dies forever. She does not think as you or I but there is a pattern within her and somewhere there is regret. Yet she never gives up hope and just as she will fail her task and return to taste the last larval milk a caterpillar stirs and she is victorious. Tonight they will cap the last chamber and all the food supplied form the larvae will be gone. All activity shall still and the precious galleries of hard borne and tended brood will demand that she must defend a royal nursery and when the task is done slowly decay into the autumn. But if she can stay alive just a little while longer then one sunny autumn evening she will see her defining moment as a stream of fertile sisters take to the air and rise on a sunbeam to dissipate on the wind. Then she shall fall to the ground beside her gracious queen-mother-sister and leave the world blessed and special from the love only the truly selfless are given. Just a s I have been given it by all the wonderful and special peoples around me who have loved me no matter what the cost was. They deserve nothing less that an eternity of bliss.

The last ant flies from the nest, last leaf floates down to rest
Copper tinged greens abound as the autumn hugs the ground
A soul wanders free in the eve of the summer’s leaving bliss
In hope of heartsease in the redemption of one beloved kiss

A day off work brings time to relax and revive and to remain wrapped warm and safe in bed, being close to you for longer than normal. Tea and toast and the chance to draw back the curtains and look at the trees standing tall against a brightening sky, that threads bands of orange among the wispy ribbon clouds. Collared doves rise and fall cooing in the distance. There will probably be rain today but for now I shall feel the warmth and read the newspaper even though I know the news will infuriate and sadden me. Ensconced here in peace it is hard to imagine that the entire world is not living the same life.

It’s 5.30am and the morning breezes take hold of the tall arched fronds of the tree fern and buffet them in random waves. Framed against the clouds in a lightening pale blue sky I see the brief vista of an oasis at dawn. Cool air hits my cheeks as step outside and this illusion dissipates rather rapidly. Black to grey clouds a re slowly seals the blue sky shut to make a dull August day. But there is work to be done and the wren already at work enquires after the health of insects embedded in the drystone wall. Deftly she leaves no point unsearched till at last breakfast is revealed. It is hard to feel anything but wonder in the cruel senselessness of it all. That something must stop its journey to enable something else to carry on. Thought for the day…don’t question just enjoy the wonder.

So soon the year arrives in August to balmy evenings heavy with a promise of wonders ready to burst into the world. Tonight is the turn of the humble ant, which for most of the year labours away steadily so that we are barely aware of its presence unless it wanders into our domain. Yet tonight each colony draws back the veil of secrecy and unleashes the culmination of its purpose into the warm night air. Thousands of virgins queens followed by eager males take to the wing in an outpouring of prolific, almost futile hope. I wonder, which few will survive and prosper to build a dynasty and which will fail and fall by the wayside enjoying one brief evening of freedom. Will that be fate or chance? I wonder and as the sun sinks behind the trees I head for home and leave the ants to their lottery.

Tonight the rain falls as the light fades from an ashen sky. We are moving through the summer and its daylight span retreats a little more each day. It is hard not to feel cheated of the light lost since those high days of June when the northern world carried on its outdoor evenings close to midnight. Days magically lengthened and stretch like a trick of time to accommodate the summer and where there was light I was freed from the boundaries of my four walls where previously I was hemmed in by the dark.

Soft shaped clouds of grey wipe slowly across the sky and enter into my day. Like a winter mist that weaves across a desolate moor they strengthen and soon obscure the sun from sight. Then perhaps in empathy with the world’s pain, the cloud’s sigh in unison and let fall tears that rush to earth in increasing numbers. Sat reading here in the garden, the newspaper’s inky words of melancholia that describe current world events blur, then sift, distort and form again and I begin to read a new story. It writes instead of the power of creation held in just a single drop of water. I now see on the paper faces written in the stars surrounded by trees and flowers and it tells me I shall dare to hope again for a little while. I feel the cool drops on my skin and some hit my mouth. Then I gaze upward and taste the poisonous world on my lips. It is bitter now but it will come to sweetness once more as it washes away hate in a torrent of change that shall set a new day.

The wind stilled for a time now picks the evening to blow
Softly as breath exhaled it moves humid air across my face
Washing cool across skin scented of thyme and rosemary
From this godly vapour of mountains all ill cleanses away
Stripped in layers with herbs from the Mount of Olympus
Faster it blows and the world around hushes to the change
Till at last comes the thunder with shouts of change ringing
In the dusk like sentinels closing the day with anger and fire
Scything blue bolts charge across the night sky like tridents
Till the power is spent and the gods grant us one more day

Been away for a little time while my computer was poorly....been a cathartic few weeks looking around the world. It is hard to take it all in. Some say it is all a biblical prophesy that is coming to pass but i am of the opinion that it is biblicality that has got us here and we are all responding in type to the prophesy that has been written.

The living world for its part cares little for the affairs of men and creeps inexorably toward its own end. Caring nothing for biblical prophesy and myths it regards us with a transient fascination as we see ants that swarm in summer heat. The world's madness will pass and we will all once again settle into a winter torpor with dreams of a better world.

For the moment that seems a long way away but truly, it will come. For we have not suffered a thousand years of enlightenment to be dragged backward into darkness again.

Monday 12th June 2006
Well a little respite today from the hot weather of the last few days which has taken temperatures up to close to 30 degrees…very hot for a normally cool Lancashire. Still it has been so wonderfully liberating to shed a few clothing layers and roam the wooded hillside weaving in and out of the branches that hang low to the ground. Some sad news this evening as Nick’s cat “Blackie” (who is 18 by the way) has broken a leg and had to be rushed to the vet. Hopefully he’ll be well and good again soon. For me I had dinner in the garden bathed in a wonderful sunshine and Poulenc’s Organ concerto. How many of you (if any) reading this have heard a pipe organ in full flow combined with an orchestra? The power in the music and majesty of the organ is brought to life today and it sounds so wonderful playing gently amongst the faltering evening sunshine and dimming birdsong. How music raises the soul and triggers perceptions that normally inhabit the periphery of our senses. It tears the soul apart and flings the fragments into the heavens and then reassembles them all into a new configuration that is softer, gentler and bursting with wonder. I heard this piece of music first at the Ferenc Liszt music school in Budapest. I think it changed everything I thought I knew about myself and my musical enjoyment. Budapest and the people of Hungary are very special.

The morning has begun cloudy with small wreaths of mist that hug closely to the uneven contours of the ground. The weather has yet to run its course and shall rally for few more days before descending into a rainy chaos once more. I can see the clouds thinning and the first glimmers of blue breaking through. Almost as though some immense celestial ship were furrowing the heavens and we were looking up through its wake. Maybe it is unrelated but the birds are subdued this morning so perhaps they too feel the air heavy with change and wait a little while longer than normal. How wonderful it would be to share the morning with you by my side.

The rain soon subsides leaving wet plants warmed in the evening sun. All now sparkles with endless possibilities that gleam off crystal covered leaves shimmering and reflecting light like green amplifiers till each plant and flower unfolds into a stage and every thrumming insect works in the spotlight of a decaying evening sun harnessed into brilliance along every emerald traced branch. Night comes slowly and softly as the light dims to grey. The last birdsong decays as feathered bodies fluff and relax into the torpor darkness brings. Our footsteps tread over the shadowy paths that wind toward home. For silence rides in on the back of darkness to lull all to dreams of a bright day welcoming them into dawn.

Summer wanes and was for us (no matter how long it seemed (‘twas but a fleeting beat on the wings of time’s wider dream. A cool breeze and the invitation from the owls floating calls shall draw me out to look upward into the heart of the night. For the sky holds safe our thoughts and dreams and though they may darken or expand in the cool night still they linger deliciously on the unconscious attempts to find peace that take over as we gaze upward toward the immeasurable pinpricks of light. Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving toward some sense and understanding of their wider world. Yet for now the larger questions shall subside into the dusky ambience and I shall think of just my little consciousness occupying this point in time. I shall simply sit on the cool grass and gaze upward and as the expanse above me unfolds for millions of miles into the void. For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown. Though there is no light I shall enjoy all the other senses of touch, smell, sound and taste. From the mist as it lazily wreathes a ghostly shadow across my feet. Or the touch of the wet grass as it dampens clothes and the sound of nights creatures from the smallest insect that thrums around me in the dark to the decaying distant call from a large tawny owl heightening my sense of completeness among the mortal waking dream termed life.I let myself go and in the dark I can see everything in this thought world and it is made whole by my touch. It is a perfect, healthy world filled to the brim with joy and so perfect in its application. It is of course an illusion but for the moment it seems to good to let go and it washes over me. For who shall deny the optimism of a perfect world where there is no pain and we all belong and understand one another without guilt, fear or prejudice. It is a common world created in the subconscious because the real world is at times beyond our comprehension. Truly though I say all this, the scariest times are when we understand it.

When a sunset burns the sky in the warmest orange, why does the dawn seem further away than ever? Oh that the night may traverse across my dreams swiftly. Borne to dawn fast upon the celestial wings of a moon ready to fall, silvered with myriad shooting stars across our loving thoughts. Thoughts that rise and fall in unison with the heartbeat of the universe, till there is no more time to dream and the dawn is reborn and we awake holding the other in loving arms that are stronger than the ties that hold the thews of this perfect world. For your perfect and strong arms are my heaven tonight and always

I am a child of England, of wood and hill and greensward. Of rain and winter and far-flung heritages condensed to make this quiet living man. I would always wish to be in a changing temperate environment of open green meadows that roll way dreams and are dotted with Friesians and buttercups. I would take the odd week’s sun but I should miss an evening dappled in sunlight, or a dewy morning alive with birdsong.

Where shall I wander tonight as the last rays of the sun sink behind the rolling distant hills. I feel like the night wraps around me and draws my soul out into a world limited only by the depth of imagination. It’s been a warm and pleasant day full of physicality that confirms mortality. That all the pleasure we feel in day to day cycles cannot last without end. Only at night gazing upward at a starry sky do we grasp a small part of how great we can become once free of our earthly duty.

If a light could be cast across my path into the night then none should enchant more than the moon’s radiance tonight. The silvered twilight enwraps in the intensity of lighting bolts that have when arcing to earth become filtered by feathered clouds riding on clear, cool air. The clouds thicken and light fades as I take a long look through tall stone pillars framing a long gravel driveway. It fades into the distance lined with tall trees. Their arching branches tracing moonlight, rising like obsidian coral swaying in the current toward the violet-black ocean surface. The whisper of the wind takes a seed of thought in my mind that darkness need not be a time to be indoors and my shadow lengthened even beyond its height in an autumn sun, reaches into this celestial world that now bridges day and night and finds peace. For your friendship has and shall be the light that will guide my way when the world is darkest.
Look to the sky and see the princess ride over darkness
Light shining through clouds that wraps her like finest silk
Tonight no cover may stifle her walk through the heavens
For she is full, wanton and seeks out those far below her
Who would make a wish and in joy shall she grant it thus
For hearts should hope and these she would try to save?
So I have wished and she threads the needle once again
To darn my heart mending hurts in the years forgotten joys
So that our fears and dreams collide and we know peace
A second lived within a lifetime seems all that has passed

I was at looking out of the window last night as the day faded. I never tire of the feeling of calm when listening to a good piece of music and watching the sky dim and darken into night. Blues through orange to copper to at last a deepening violet that holds the silhouette of a monkey-puzzle tree with such a sharp angular clarity not seen in daylight. Too soon the last vestiges of birdsong fade and all is laid bare to the wanderings of the soul through the solitude of silence. To know we cannot endure amongst such loveliness and must leave sooner or later eats at the soul like a curse. For I have you in my life and I would wish to stay till your soul is content and your sense enriched by all that I can give.
Out walking in the veil of night I see a footprint in the moist earth and I place my foot to the indent in the soft brown earth. It will not fit for my foot is too large. Yet I caress the shape beneath with softness driven by memory of long ago when two people walked along the shore and their passage through time marked as indents on golden sand. For you were here and my soul wishes you were here now. For often it seems that living keeps us apart when we should be together. Weights and joys of our past bred responsibilities to others and they lead us on roads we do not wish to travel. Age creeps into our lives and makes us less that we were physically and yet the heart still burns and I miss you even when I can’t be with you. You are the candle under my flame and without you I would gutter and dim to nothing. I miss you and then I see the blackest sky hung with stars and framed through the branches that hang low on the hilltop is you. My heart loves you and shall always love you forever.
Where shall we go tonight? Shall we visit the earth before we were here and stand on the crest of a hill to watch dinosaurs. Or travel far into the future when we shall at last have learnt that the creator(s) was / were flawed and were without the greatest by-product of their new assembled universe. This was the accidental creation of our, (not their) collective humanity. For they could not have been planned that way at the outset. Perhaps it comes too late, but it comes and slowly we will overtake that which brought us to here.
I often wonder how it comes to be that the world could be created in such savagery. Man will subjugate and kill, (if he can,) all other men that move within his jurisdiction. All that walks on the Earth consumes a part of it and like some huge and terrible pyramid of butchery the world feasts upon its inhabitants. I think some term it dispassionately the food chain. How could a world that turns and rejoices in its bloodlust move forward? How could a world on such a barbaric scale be created? I find it hard to believe that a beneficent power would consciously do it knowing the suffering that it would bring for aeons. So we are left with three conclusions.
The world is a random collection of elements that sprang into life from a chaotic chance.
A divine being created the world.
The world was seeded by other beings for other purposes not known to us yet.
For we are a small world full of people locked inside a limitless universe that we cannot grasp the size or consequence of. We are at last moving beyond the limits superstition set ourselves into sciences that enable the disassembling of the keys of life and yet we are still within as savage as the Neanderthal we sprang from. Time has not tempered our innate capacity to hate and to destroy on a massive scale and as our numbers rise our individual self-importance grows less. It is as though we are programmed not to care for others outside (and sometimes within) our small social groups.
All our lives we all wrangle with choices that hover between selfish acts and naked greed. How often have we gone for the choice that harms others? Winners and losers and how a whole ethic of avarice and covetous behaviour is flimsily covered with a feeling of superiority. How brave are those that stand and be counted and will not submit. So often blinded and wrong in their choices and yet absolute in the cause within their heart.
It is going to be a nice day. I can’t see out the window but I can see the sunshine reflected in the yellow walls of the room. I switched rooms last year and I miss the view out of the window on to the trees. I am sure it inspired me much more than I care to realise. Inspiration to write is a fragile thing. Generally it occurs at the most inconvenient time. Such as a works meeting when I want to stop the work and let the words flow. Or in my head among the thoughts and idle dreams grows an epic of biblical proportions that needs to be transmuted into readable verse. For now time quickens and creative pulses slow among me and my contemporaries and I realise at last that my lives easy summer living grows rapidly toward a cooler autumn. For the though takes shape that this is all there is and I would wish for more. It is hard to comprehend we shall not endure. Hard to think I may never see you again. Yet we are equal for I think this is just as hard for you. It is difficult to see an end when we also feel a call.
There is breath from across all the ages singing to us still. Its harmony set to the beat of shooting stars flying sparsely through obsidian heavens. I cannot hear the words but the melody touches my soul rendering it immortal. For within us on the very border of consciousness must lie the sum of all that has gone before. We are the repositories of time itself. Stardust woven into life with all the memories of the universe. Close your eyes and see that which crawled from vapid seas to splutter and live upon the lands. That surely killed to survive and yet still loved. Slowly over the millennia it grew into that which resides in you, (and me.) Long gone are the ones who brought us here but within us lies their whispers spoken ever softer as the generations pass. Perhaps one day all will still and we shall evolve to a greater plane. But for now the whispers hold sway and we can only dream. Tonight I shall dream of you and only you. For love defines itself as memories and dreams made alive in each other’s arms. You are here and I reach out to touch you and I realise that throughout the rest of my life your soul shall be always at my side. I love you.

Thurday 18th May 2006

Lots of fast and furious Spring rain tempered with sunshine across the whole of the day. Still so atmospheric and vibrant with new leaves slowly unfurling to create verdant bunting stretched betwen long brown arcing branches and waving on the sout-west wind. I might wave back if everyone didn't look so glum. Ah to be in England in the Summer again. I love it so! Go look at bluebells at dusk and tell me that's not atmospheric...Green grass on a rolling valley slope with a meandering river swollen by rain, bluebells in vivid mettalic blue and humming insects with the whole view swathed in dappled sunshine. If you ever wonder what it's really all about then walk through nature at the days beginning or ending and wonder no more. Or listen to Sara Brightman, Oleta Adams, or a great classical score for that has the same effect.
Near the end of a working week and I am looking forward to the weekend. Bargain hunts for vinyl records and any equipment used to play them, walks with dog and some gardening. If you haven't done so...listen to some records on a decent hi-fi and prepare to be amazed. Have a great weekend and if you haven't seen Crash yet....where you been? Same place as me as i only watched it last nght. I am only around 12 months behind all this stuff. But..probably a good place to be I feel.

Tip for the weekend...Dont live a life vicariously through others do it through yourself.

Sunday 14th May 2006

It’s such a beautiful and perfect evening tonight. Rain swept across the hills this afternoon but now sunshine abounds and all the dismal nooks and crannies are once again full of sparkling water drops that have beentouched by the light and warmth of the sun. I am listening to theinspirational Gladiator soundtrack and as the ethereal voice of Lisa Gerard and the stirring music reverberates across the room it is hard to believe that the world for others is not always so tranquil and warm and above all else safe from harm! We would rather not think that in a thousand places across the world people are desperately seeking a way into the world we inhabit. It is not in question that everyone should be able to have all that we take so readily as our right. Yet it is not so and my perfect evening is tinged with guilt for all those who stand outside the gates and peer through. For truly their worlds are more bountiful and warm than mine and my simple heart does not understand why it is so! At times the injustice and hurts suffered by others seem almost biblical and yet I wonder if really that is not the root of all the suffering. It is hard to work out whom or what is the culprit for the glut of madness and inhumane behaviours that rock the world.So forgive me if tonight I shall not try and instead focus on the world outside my window. This emerging leaves streaming from brown branches likes mall globules of palest emerald, that begin to glisten and expand into spring with a mission of growth. I too feel growth like the spring and a burning rush to summer gathers pace in a tumultuous outpouring of emotion and hope. For hope is eternal and clings within me like the startling leaves upon all the trees. So easily we could be shrugged aside from a care of the world like chaff on an autumn breeze and yet we resolutely ride all the storms, clinging resolutely to the beliefs that gave us life’s foundations. For life is all we have and though all these sensations and hopes shall come to naught on this earthly plane so we understand that there is so much more that is deeply invisible to us. It awaits all that have a glad heart and the wisdom to see beyond the earthly boundaries set by the universe. Always remember that the friends and loves we make in life shall never be sundered.

There is breath from across all the ages singing to us still. Its harmony set to the beat of shooting stars flying sparsely through obsidian heavens. I cannot hear the words but the melody touches my soul rendering it immortal. For within us on the very border of consciousness must lie the sum of all that has gone before. We are the repositories of time itself. Stardust woven into life with all the memories of the universe. Close your eyes and see that which crawled from vapid seas to splutter and live upon the lands. That surely killed to survive and yet still loved. Slowly over the millennia it grew into that which resides in you, (and me.) Long gone are the ones who brought us here but within us lies their whispers spoken ever softer as the generations pass. Perhaps one day all will still and we shall evolve to a greater plane. But for now the whispers hold sway and we can only dream.

For the whispers speak of darker times when man shared the earth with creatures not of this world which came here battling each other in alliances of splendour. We have no name for these races only that cruelty was matched by honour and that mankind has reaped their bittersweet heritage. For magic entered the world with them and like the whispers in our minds, it exists still. Though through time it decays in its potency. For me the quest of my life is to discover if the seeds sowed by these strangers can grow and produce a magical fruit. If there is an intangible power within us, it manifests as wisdom, grace and honour in one’s such as we. But that is cause for fear. For these qualities abounding in us says there are others that harbour darker shades and their blackened hearts breed discontent, envy and cruelty. We shall seem the dappled glades that harbour soft, cool breezes winding amongst fresh green leaves whilst they hold a fetid sway within deep woods where no air or light penetrates. There seems no dispute that we are a world of only two possibilities intermingled in chaotic colonies. There are no other true races within the boundaries of the world only individuals. Yet how has this come to be? Here is my story written deep within memories sung across the aeons….

Goodness and humility is the engine that drives the world. The great things done move the world but its vital fuel is the sum of all the invisible actions we take every day.

Summer wanes and was for us (no matter how long it seemed (‘twas but a fleeting beat on the wings of time’s wider dream. A cool breeze and the invitation from the owls floating calls shall draw me out to look upward into the heart of the night. For the sky holds safe our thoughts and dreams and though they may darken or expand in the cool night still they linger deliciously on the unconscious attempts to find peace that take over as we gaze upward toward the immeasurable pinpricks of light. Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving toward some sense and understanding of their wider world. Yet for now the larger questions shall subside into the dusky ambience and I shall think of just my little consciousness occupying this point in time. I shall simply sit on the cool grass and gaze upward and as the expanse above me unfolds for millions of miles into the void. For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown. Though there is no light I shall enjoy all the other senses of touch, smell, sound and taste. From the mist as it lazily wreathes a ghostly shadow across my feet. Or the touch of the wet grass as it dampens clothes and the sound of nights creatures from the smallest insect that thrums around me in the dark to the decaying distant call from a large tawny owl heightening my sense of completeness among the mortal waking dream termed life.
I let myself go and in the dark I can see everything in this thought world and it is made whole by my touch. It is a perfect, healthy world filled to the brim with joy and so perfect in its application. It is of course an illusion but for the moment it seems to good to let go and it washes over me. For who shall deny the optimism of a perfect world where there is no pain and we all belong and understand one another without guilt, fear or prejudice. It is a common world created in the subconscious because the real world is at times beyond our comprehension. Truly though I say all this, the scariest times are when we understand it.

Come unto me night and let the stardust of aeons wash my dark dreams in their wake
Cleanse and make me whole so that I may survive to witness a little more mortal eternity.
For my dreams are dark of late and the world weighs heavy on the souls of us …its children
For given the eyes to see, then why do we choose to close them so often to all the injustice?
That wreathes the world in a band of chaotic greed and stays the hand from actions that stand out.

Come unto me night and let the stardust of aeons wash my heart to ease with loving thoughts
For I have a need of such joy that surpasses all else. To laugh like there is only hope left and…
Sleep in a flower filled meadow amongst the sunshine while the world revolves to night
To wake under a crescent moon and see the myriad stars twinkling hope in a scattering canopy.
Myriad points of reference that perhaps hold unknown alien contemporaries also striving

Come unto me night to find a road to a distant place that is sending a clarion call through the heavens
Yet for now the these larger questions subside into the dusky ambience and as all stills I shall think
Of just my little primate consciousness occupying this point in time sat on the cool grass in a vast universe
Gaze upward with me as the unlimited expanse above unfolds for billions of miles into the void.
For if I can see just a little glimpse of heaven I shall have grown and know

Come unto me night for the stardust has come finally home to weave a sentient being into existence
Yet the atoms of eternity cry within me for this is not how they wished to march through their infinity
Adrift in a world where the price of pain and suffering is so easily bought and to always bear a witness
That nothing can ever change for the universe has created a flaw to ensure that man can never ascend
Into the bright light of enduring creation…for this and only this I breathe hope that justice prevails.

Yet life is ever a paradox and what grows stronger through adversity weakens new associations and makes it hard for us and also for others to grow as close as they (and perhaps us,) would wish. Yet in the end a compromise is reached. And yes, if I weigh everything up in the scales of time all I have done or seen or felt may come to naught still there is always the moment and while we endure it is all we have. The future shall attend to itself but the moment… that is ours entirely to enjoy. I remember all the good things and all the good people and I realise I have let a lot of them down. I cannot change that, but I can try to make amends. For we are on the same path and the journey is all the more joyous being able to share some footsteps with you. You took the time to walk with me through the years and I shall now accompany you whenever I can.