Split Sky Morning


The world through the curtains is a grey cloud world. But I’m awake, so I will climb into my Wellington boots and take Dog to the fields, because I love Dog, under any sky. 
I am watching her leap the five bar gate, watching the spray as she skids through dew heavy grass, I am thinking, let’s take the lower path this morning and check the Longwools aren’t caught in any bramble thickets. I watch my footing on the slippy wide bladed grass, down to the sloppy mud under the holly tree. Only then do I look up. Vast clouds fill the right hand side of the firmament; what is left, is clearly uncluttered blue. Last night’s fire in the grate means that there is today hot water waiting in the tank, my chatty little brain tells me, so it is entirely possible to indulge in a bath and then sit outside to dry my hair in sunshine.
And if the cloud presses in, it was still a beautiful thought. 


Comments

Lynn Proctor said…
oh to dry ones hair in the sunshine, what a lovely image!
7 May 2012 at 17:24
Lisa Southard said…
It rained! But it was a lovely image- maybe next time :-)
7 May 2012 at 21:18
J.L. Campbell said…
Idyllic is the word that comes to mind, having read your post. I need to slow down just like that.
7 May 2012 at 21:52
Teresa Cypher said…
Beautiful :-)

And wonderful that you take great pleasure in the mere thought--even if does not see fruition :-)
8 May 2012 at 01:06
Nicki Elson said…
Very pretty - all of it.
8 May 2012 at 04:16
Jeremy Bates said…
clouds are always visually dramatic. Can you imagine a world without them or a sweeping movie scene without the backdrop of clouds during sunset? I guess not. Great photo. Great post.
8 May 2012 at 10:03
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
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...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more