Robins, Dogs and Faries

Entwistle Reservoir

The annual Christmas tree dressing is in full flow at the reservoir. Well I am not sure it is the right thing to do here, but it does no harm I guess as long as they remove them again. Oh dear my humbug is showing again!

Help

Today I saw an old man; he looked a bit like me

Or at least how I'll look, when I reach seventy three

He was resting on a bench, soaking up the midday heat

And all seemed well, till he tried to stand on unsteady feet

No one else saw his trouble, as he struggled to get upright

Mostly we pretend to look at the floor, than do what is right

I offered him assistance, but he dismissed it out of hand

"I don’t need help thanks, though it takes longer I can still stand"

"When I can't look after myself, that's a day to know I'm done"

"So save your pity for yourself, for you'll be here one-day son"

So if you see an old man who looks like he needs help in a crowd

Don’t bother to offer aid; let him alone and able to stand proud

A frosty morning at Entwistle

Reflection

Some pictures from my walk around Entwistle reservoir the other day

Gold

This is the finest gold though perhaps you do not count it yet as a worthy treasure. Yet when the days fall into ruin and the sea rises above your defences in the autumn of your existence you will see that the greatest treasures were ever about you; if you had, only but looked up. 

Red

It must be autumn as the Amanita muscaria, commonly known as the fly agaric is growing in huge patches around Entwistle reservoir. They never get to full maturity as people always destroy them, but you would have to eat a lot to poison yourself. It is a hallucinogenic first and foremost, which thinking about it actually might explain a lot. I wish they would grow in my garden as they add a feeling of enchantment and colour to contrast against the decay of the season.

What grows in autumn between wall and wood?

Rises from the night in a fresh-dewed awakening

Tis a red opulence that blooms like fortunate treasure

A scarlet caveat and yet welcome sign the world is well

And is there not a comfort to see such dangerous things

For if, we are to be made safe from everything harmful

Then tomorrow may wait for its protected correlation

For no wonders in crimson disguise would ever come  

Debutantes

I; progenitor upon an evening path

As the climax of summer erupts
The ants arise in smoky layers
Impinge upon the lowering sun
Gossamer wings and honeyed lines
In sleek waves of amber nobility
That weave and flex into night
A million debutantes are dancing
Wings brush skin; legs cling to hair
And I walk in clouds of contact
Beneath antiquities emerging stars
And what of their future
The men shall be king for a day
And the ladies queens for eternity
Sacredly revered in subterranean secret
By the watchwomen of the earth
These hunters of the unspeakable
Devourers of the wretched
And harvesters of dark gardens
Overlooked beneath our clumsy feet
But for one night everything changes
And a royal waltz is played at sunset
But I shall not be asked to dance

Pensylavnia Sunset (Lancaster Co)

From my friend Scott (UK sunset for comparison)

June Photos

Random photos while out with the dog

Tears

The young calves have been taken away from the mothers and they seem rather sad at the minute. This cow looks as though it is crying.

The relaxing garden area

The strangest fungus shape I have seen so far in a tree hole at the lake

Yellow Iris against the grey sky

Heron and Geese

Shrinkwrapped lamb

 

The first lambs are here in the local fields. They put little plastic jackets on them for the first few days to keep them warm and dry. It is a joy to watch them skipping around but sad to think of their eventual future.

 

 

March Snow

Pearl

Sitting within a wooded bowl

This glittering drop of freshwater
Like a pearl set in green shell
So far from the mothering sea
For year I have walked its wonder
And again today I circle the silver
This natural bath of clarity
A giant's tear formed from civic duty
Now a calming balm for restless souls
Ever larger does this lake grow
As time and feet wear away it edges
But it shields me from the madness
It is the closest peace I know to home
And for every day that remains
I'll scramble this horizontal stair
And the only regret I'll harbour
Is the wish that you were there?

Reflect

Reflections are but the peace of the earth's soul that nature has set upon glassless water