Saturday, June 13, 2015

Two birds, three hares.and a garden

"That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!"   
(From Robert Brownings  poem 'Home thoughts from abroad')
'There on the grey stone in the grass was an enormous thrush, nearly coal black, its pale yellow breast freckled (with) dark spots. Crack! It had caught a snail and was knocking it on the stone. Crack! Crack!
“Leave him alone!” said Thorin. “The thrushes are good and friendly-this is a very old bird indeed, and is maybe the last left of the ancient breed that used to live about here, tame to the hands of my father and grandfather. They were a long-lived and magical race, and this might even be one of those that were alive then, a couple of hundreds years or more ago."
(From the Hobbit by JRR Tolkien)

This song thrush is on my garden path,  going about it's business, keeping the garden snails in check, tap tapping and cracking them on the stone.  Busy, with a mouth filled with food for a fledgling, that chirped in the overgrown flower bed near the hedge. I followed the precious sound, discovered the baby, then quickly snapped a photograph. It turned out a little out of focus because I tried to hurry, I didn't want to delay it's snack that was eagerly waiting to be delivered. Hopefully this one will survive to adult hood and bless us with it's sweet song. 
The foxgloves are in full bloom now standing tall. They remind me of glowing lanterns with the evening light behind them.   
The bees are enjoying them, buzzing in and out of the bells so fast I managed to capture a bottom.
And a leg. :-) 

Latest work to show, are three pieces on wood, which will be heading over to the 'The Names of the Hare' exhibition at New Brewery Arts, Cirencester, Gloucestershire this July.
'Following the song for evermore'
'Magic in the spaces between'
 'The Geminids call'
If you are in the area, please do visit, I'm sure it will be a fantastic exhibition. :-)
Going back to The Hobbit, that was mentioned at the beginning, I will end with this wonderful song from the last film. I only just caught up with the final instalment in the film trilogy, just last week, so do forgive me for being 'late to the party' so to speak. I just love this song and had to share. I feel quite sad now that it's all done and that I won't be seeing the familiar characters anymore.

Enjoy your weekend. x

Monday, June 1, 2015

Some of my days.

Today the sea sounds as if it's just outside. The wind is in the branches, shaking the brightest green new leaves on the Ash. It's scattering the hawthorns white petals, an offering of snow that we didn't receive in Winter.
It's quite a chilly start to the first of June here with the wind (and now rain) so I shall turn my time turner back to May, when the sun shone.
I didn't get a chance to share as many pictures last month, being busy, working on my hangers.
I didn't share my walks to the bluebell woods, the quiet dappled sunlight, walking through the deer track.
Or the holly blue butterflies visiting the holly blossom. 
I haven't shared small moments of play
And now that the boot sales have started again. The finding of 'treasures', for just a few pennies.
There have been a few travels in-between. Across and down, to West Sussex where I had lunch at the lovely town of Arundel and visited the beautiful castle there.
Then last week down to Cornwall for a short visit to my Sister.
We stopped at our usual tea break stop on the way, just off of the main road, Jamaica Inn.
Where I picked up a little something to read.
We caught the boat to St Michaels Mount and climbed the prettiest path up to the castle.

A cup of tea was enjoyed, accompanied with one of the best views.  
     I found these beauties in the castle, delicate stained glass inspiration.
Back home again, here the bluebells and apple blossom have gone over and the holly blossom has already turned into an abundance of green berries.
The roses are beginning to bloom.  
And the garden is filled with flowers.
     Song of The Flower 
I am a kind word uttered and repeated
By the voice of Nature;
I am a star fallen from the
Blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements
With whom Winter conceived;
To whom Spring gave birth; I was
Reared in the lap of Summer and I
Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze
To announce the coming of light;
At eventide I join the birds
In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with
My beautiful colors, and the air
Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of
Night watch over me, and as I
Awaken I stare at the sun, which is
The only eye of the day.
I drink dew for wine, and hearken to
The voices of the birds, and dance
To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light,
And never look down to see my shadow.
This is wisdom which man must learn.

 - Khalil Gibran
I am back at the desk now and have a huge list to begin ticking off. 
Enjoy your week. :) x