Joys of Winter

Today -
So far
I've been very lazy
Apart from
Sprucing feral Rory's little den
How can one cat
Get into such a pickle!
Sweeping leaves
Chopping down the wilting
Gunnera's leathery leaves
Big as umbrellas
And twice as tough -
Marvelling at the graceful
Willow and sturdy pine
Battered by
Another night of seering wind
And unrelenting rain.
Window-gazing now
Across a mighty sea -
Waiting for the Hebridean islands to
Paint their lofty image on
The distant horizon

greenmossgiel
such a stunning view and ring-collared doves, too.
butternut...such thrilling news. I'm so happy for you x

We don't have any stairs....we're too wee and tiny.... In the (now bare) oak tree there are eight ring-collared doves perched. They're preening themselves in the sunlight....

Ooh Green I'll have to go up and over so I can see - maybe there's some on the Pentlands, will have a look next time I'm up the stair

Snaw on oor hills this mornin', tae! In our case it's the Lomond Hills, and the high winds have covered just the one side of them. The sun is lighting them up beautifully at this moment.

More snow on the hills this morning! Or, as they say around here: Mair snaw.

There was a little yesterday but there's more this morning, so that was cold rain we had.

Lovely for you, butty!

I'm jumping up and down with Joy
this Winter's day
As my son has booked tickets
to fly from the U.S. of A.
With arms full of his wife and the kids
Who are nearly 4 and nearly 2.
Not for Christmas, nor New Year
But for the garden wedding,
Of son number two
Who will have his brother
At his side next Spring
Under our cherry trees
Ready with the ring
..... and I shall sing.

You certainly give it that, supernana .

Hey ho...hey ho
'Twas off to work we go
Splashing through lake-like puddles
Along the winding drive
Pot-holed and wrecked by
Decades of comings and goings
Of visitors
To the once upon a time
Grand House.

There it stands -
A depressed grey edifice
Windows dark and sad
Door paint peeling
Brass knocker barely able to
Raise it's lion head.
Old door creaks and groans
Reluctant to let us enter
Into the musty corridors
That once led to a warm and happy place.

The walls bear images
Of this same house
When it was oh so proud -
Pictures of family gatherings
Mementos crowding the shelves
Well-read books
A Singer sewing machine
Walking sticks
Gum boots
No longer needed.

Polish and mop
Shine the brass
Plump the cushions
Sweep the stairs
Water the plants
A home without
A beating heart
Still needs our loving care.

Just got a message from DH. He is still travelling! Had to go round the mountains after all and then there were train problems (leaves, water, trees on the line; could be any or all three) and bus problems. It'll be time to come home by the time he gets to work. Memorable birthday in more ways than one!

Well, after that little lot, hope you have a glowing Amber afternoon.

- Liked it very much.

Bagitha

A very, very, very Happy Birthday to you.

Thank you, butty. Already having an interesting and smiley day thanks to GNers and this:

One of the reasons we have a 4x4
Living where we do
Showed up this morning —
The Road (there is only one without "going round the mountains") was flooded
So Hub came home half an hour after he'd left,
Not because he couldn't get through the water
But because several other, ordinary cars
Had already tried
And failed
And were stuck
And blocking the road
With their wrecked engines.
Happens every year, sometimes several times.
You'd think they'd learn —
Road puddles round here
Are deep!
But Hub got an extra coffee at home
And we trained binoculars on the far side of the loch,
And when all the tailed up red lights began to move
He set off again.
They did some work on the drains last year
But I expect it was the wrong kind of leaves
Piling up and getting stuck, as they do,
That caused the problem.
In an area of high rainfall and lots of trees,
Drain maintenance, anyone?

Earlier I donned waterproof trousers, Ventile jacket and hood,
Thick thockth, rainbow wellies, knitted gloves and thick waterproof gloves on top
And trundled down the hill with the wheelie bin.
As I trekked back up beside the stream in the dark
(no street lights because no street)
I could hear that the water was white water today,
And yes, even in the dark, the burn showed
As a white gash streaking down the hill.
Hello, stream.

Happy Birthday, Bagitha
and wishing you many Happy Returns!

[flowers]

Today, when I went to the acupuncturist, I saw an azalea in almost full bloom in his front garden. Does it think it's in the Antipodes?

It's when i go back and here people talking "normally" ...
And then there is the sea and the hills etc.

Lovely imagery bagitha. What a brave little blue lobelia....

Well captured, JessM - do you miss Wales?

Yes a real sense of atmosphere B. I just got back from Wales. DH had to go via London.

Long drive home alone
Away from the voices that sound like home
Traffic slows on the bypass
Kestrel, hovering over the verge
Hoping for supper
Black against a pink cloud
Buzzard with heavy pay load
Flaps slowly across the road

Baggy Your word-picture is absolutely wonderful

Fast, when you're having fun eh, super? Glad you had a lovely afternoon.

Your party sounds good too, butty!

Inside it is an orange day today —
Mashed carrot and swede laced with butter,
Some for tonight and some to freeze
For another day.
And dried apricots with my lunch
Of oatcake and paté.
And the wood stove fire
Glowing.

Outside it is grey to the north-east
With the deep dark green of ivy and spruce
Against the darker greys of the wet tree trunks
And the pale pale grey of the loch behind.

To the south-east it is grey
With the bright green of new grass
Growing through the pale orange
Old dead grass that has fallen to make way
For new life.

Our dry stane dyke may look grey
But if you look closely you will see
First many greys, then greens
Of moss and lichen, fern and the waxy mounds
Of reflexed stonecrop leaves.
Some white stones, and white lichen too,
Some red sandstone and, in one spot,
A little clump of blue lobelia flowers
Hanging on against the cold and the gales.

And now I shall pour some
Amber tea.

Sunday afternoon -
Day light creeping towards fade-out.
Rain tip-tapping on the windows
Wind whining around the ready-locked door.

Birds in their beds -
Feral cat, too.
The phone rings-
A cheery voice -
'Busy? If not, could we call in for a cup of tea?'

Fire lit. Kettle singing. Tea-tray set. Cushions plumped proudly.
Unlock door. Pull the blinds. Door-bell chimes -
Happy late Sunday clatter of china
Shared shortbread - chatter - laughter - company
'Before you go - a wee dram maybe?'

Rosy-faced visitors
Bid farewell.
'Til the next time. Bye for now...'
The clock chimes -
Oh! How time flies...

Butternut beautiful
GoldenGran The hustle and bustle of London has enormous charm...and, of course, our wee man lives there As for Jasmine - perfectly heavenly - can almost smell it from here!
Carol Annobel I love long-tailed tits. They only ever visit our cherry tree in springtime.

What a treat, GoldenGran, to have the scent of Jasmine at this time of year.