The Sky Will Always Astound

(Don't like heights, but that is me on the big rock.)

There's not an inconsequential cloud here. They are things of marvellous substance. Sunlight blares between. Such loud weather. It calls us to the moors, to seek a good walk and a vantage point.

Once I saw the glow-edge of the Northern Lights: the sky was shaded purple: it quite surprised my eyes. From the top of Feather Tor, in the unnerving tug of wind, the shades of this heaven are not unexpected, yet hold that thrill.

After deeds of mild daring and a vanilla cone, we drive slowly home in phenomenal torrents.

Comments

Geo. said…

Sky may astound but I'm astonished by the photos --a solitary figure looking down at the moor. It is a Frederic Dorr Steele illustration come to life. One almost hears the howling hound of the Baskervilles! You have reached the mystery lover in me. Delightful!

4 August 2013 at 08:08

Lisa Southard said…

A few happy dogs were barking- not too terrifying! I was a little intimidated by the climb, being a wimp for heights, but I knew it would be worth it. I love the wild moors, of course, they are full of ghosts and mysterious things :-)

4 August 2013 at 21:16

TravelBug-Susan said…

Every time you write, your blog is a delight to read. Life in poetry, descriptions in emotion. Love!

8 August 2013 at 19:42

Lisa Southard said…

Thank you Susan- your comment was a delight to me :-)

8 August 2013 at 23:29

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...

A Happy Kind Of Idiot

I am watching hazel leaves shimmy in a breeze, they are keeping time with the buzz of nettle stings that run from my fingertips to my elbows. It feels like I'm wearing gloves made of needles; why didn't I just wear gloves to clear the nettles from the raspberry hedge? But I like to know the plants, how they grow, how they smell, how they stain and sting, what bugs shelter in their leaves, what grubs and gastropods nestle at the roots. How the roots sneak under weedblocks, moon-pale, and over open ground where they are purplish, bullish. I like the work to affect, I like interactive life. It has a little pain and a lot of interest. Not all the nettles are gone, of course, some must be left to house caterpillars, and they are a healthy vegetable for people too. Today’s crop is for compost though, to feed the soil, the miracle stuff from which this abundance grows. How could I not wish to be close to that? At home I have a shower, scrub my sore hands- and still I sm...

Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

Search This Blog