Song Of A White Sky



Two types of snowdrops shiver in the slippery breeze: the shy droplets and the belled petals, striped with green.
Icy, the breeze slides.
Nipped fingers pull the wool of the warm scarf, cosy up fragile flesh.
Cold mud, under the tread of the boots, plasticized: tracks that draw the eye to the gate of the field where the old barn squats.
To the gate, and pull the squealing bolt and find here, white as winter flora, open sky: wide open sky.


Comments

  1. Stephanie5 February 2013 at 00:10

    Beautiful! And shivery. I drew my blanket closer around my shoulders.

    ReplyDelete
  2. klahanie5 February 2013 at 01:15

    And as the wind doth howl out yonder window, your words, your photos, reminiscent of an earlier time today.

    Thank you,

    Gary

    ReplyDelete
  3. Suze5 February 2013 at 01:51

    Oh, thank you for the image with your words!

    ReplyDelete
  4. The Cranky5 February 2013 at 08:50

    I envy you your snowdrops; it's still far too cold for them here.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Lisa Southard6 February 2013 at 00:24

    Thank you all!! Yep, it's chilly here, but so much to marvel at. Would like to live in field where the old barn sits :-)

    ReplyDelete

Post a comment

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here:

Popular posts from this blog

Plotlines And Plants

Image
Wednesday 3rd February 2021 Returned to work on Monday with my lists of little things to achieve each day, to balance the lack of other adventures in this, the third of our UK lockdowns. Checked rota and found myself not working more than usual shift pattern for two weeks consecutively which feels like I am still on holiday. 😊 Yesterday we stocked up on top soil, potting compost, vermiculite; bought seeds for savoy cabbage and tarragon, and I treated myself to new secateurs (lost a pair in the garden somewhere). 💚 We took the van, also picking up an old window which later will be a solar dehydrator and water heater, and wood for replacing the polytunnel door, which was too long for the van. Mr had to borrow a saw and bespoke the lengths in rain so heavy it was near solid. 💧 This morning after stretches and dog walking I lugged new topsoil onto the polytunnel beds, pruned the small apple tree, cooked mushrooms on the woodburner. Right now I am about to brew extra coffee and crack
Read more

First Day In The Year Of The Metal Ox

Image
Over this last week I did remember to go to work, then came home and back to writing. Popped outside to admire sleek ice every now and then; sometimes stars nestled in their velvet sky. One cold sunny morning the elder trees were pruned, and the wild rose in the rockery. Spring flowers were pushing up, not enough to lift the winter slowness, nor should we be in a rush to be rid of winter. We need our fallow times. Slow is important. This morning I dropped the car to Race Hill Garage since the tyre and handbrake warning lights are sparking up without reason (that I know of- a sensor may need replacing on this, my metal ox). Walked home facing the whip of the wind, glad of the long coat I was wrapped in. Stopped to photograph a lone bull - it’s your Year, I call to it, we too are in lockdown solitudes, let us have solidarity. It bowed a bovine head to continue chewing. Looked up to the treetops of the Small Woods where the spring buds hold tightly poised. It is good to rest, and go
Read more

Yes, A Winter Welcome

Image
~ Words on beginning the Winter Festivities ~ Monday 30th November 2020 Autumn’s last calendar day. The season puts on a thick mist coat so I picture it flouncing out with flaming leaves at its hem, russet apples tumbling behind. Winter clatters at the door, all cold bones and tense sparkling hope. Last night I had driven home connected to a clear night, moon above, fuel warning light pipping, songs turned loud: it was like old poor times, the good energy of it, the leap of faith. This night I drove home through wails of mist, fuel levels contently full, songs still loud: the good energy of repleteness. My fear of comfort is diminished, I note, and this brings an excitement. Am I ready? Yes. Tuesday 1st December 2020 In bed drinking coffee, having first admired the crazy moon lighting the morning sky silvery bright; the sun behind us was arriving as though poured slowly from a jug. Welcome to winter. This first day is a list of simple pleasures: setting up cold protection in t
Read more