Joys of Spring

The rain here has a tropical quality about it... twice the rainfall of London!

But not twice the rain of western Scotland, betcha!

I also have twice the rainfall of London, surprisingly enough, hence my rain gauge fascination! It just comes in deluges. As for W. Scotland - hmmmm probably not as much.

A sail! A sail! A blue-edged sail!
Tacking, close-hauled, in long, narrow reaches up loch.
So good to see a sailboat sailed!
So many seem to motor up
Unsure, perhaps, of their sailing skills
After a long winter sleep at boat yard.
As spring progresses into summer
I hope to see again my favourite
Old yawl, skippered by an old hand.
Watching him with surpassing skill and elegance
Sail in and loosen sheets at exactly that moment
That the well-judged wind and tide
Will sweep him up to his mooring
Just right.
A delight.

bagitha I'm standing right beside you. Lovely!

It would be nice to watch it together too, soop!

How bright, refreshing and skillful. I've seen it through your words, bagitha.
I would love to join you both!

Lovely! We 'sailed' all the time. DH was born in Scotland! Diesel costs money! Wind is free!

We did too, Jeni, many years ago....... and canoeing.

Oh! Those days, long lost! I feel dismal and grown old.
Appologies to Browning.
'a toccata of Galluppis'

Now I'm imagining a line of GN-ers, arms linked, standing by the shore, watching that wonderful old sailor. Then we can all troop up the hill to my house and have tea and buns, in the garden if it's fine, or inside round a fire if it's chilly .

Now that would be something!

Lovely poem Baggy . I'm with you on the actua sailling. Far too many chugging and 'playing' at sailing around here too.
BTW. The magnolia is pinky/white with a dark pink base - lovely. For a small tree, it appears very strong.

Bags...if I could, I'd be with you in a blink of an eye. It would be such fun...

It's a day full of different and very busy clouds today, and I came across this from one of my favourite poets, Wislawa Szymborska.

CLOUDS

I’d have to be really quick
to describe clouds -
a split second’s enough
for them to start being something else.

Their trademark:
they don’t repeat a single
shape, shade, pose, arrangement.

Unburdened by memory of any kind,
they float easily over the facts.

What on earth could they bear witness to?
They scatter whenever something happens.

Compared to clouds,
life rests on solid ground,
practically permanent, almost eternal.

Next to clouds
even a stone seems like a brother,
someone you can trust,
while they’re just distant, flighty cousins.

Let people exist if they want,
and then die, one after another:
clouds simply don't care
what they're up to
down there.

And so their haughty fleet
cruises smoothly over your whole life
and mine, still incomplete.

They aren't obliged to vanish when we're gone.
They don't have to be seen while sailing on.

Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh

Butter - thank you for the poem. It is special.

Supersoop -

She is (or was) the Polish Poet Laureate.

DH just heard a cuckoo! That's far too early! (and where was I? on this flippin' puter again! ! so I missed it)

It isn't too early. It's perfect timing. Haven't heard one here yet, but we will.

He's supposed to sing his song in May. Another ten days!

There are always rule-breakers!

Another day of amazing cloud formations and a shimmering mirror-calm sea.

soop, do I gather you have willow warblers already? Lucky blighter! Ours haven't arrived yet, nor the chiffchaffs which usually come first.

Listening hard......

bagitha Correction...J tells me that it was a reed warbler. The martins have arrived at the home of friends living nearby. J also informs me that he was greeted by a chorus of chiffchaffs when he fed the birds this morning.