Spring may not have sprung but it was doing a few experimental bounces this weekend: first sighting this year of an oystercatcher and on top of Bennachie it was sunny and bright though cold.
Tonight clear and even colder but a beautiful star-filled sky, Orion in full pomp overhead.
Yesterday I finally got my new chickens: today I have eggs. What could be simpler?
Sunday 27 February 2011
Monday 21 February 2011
Monday 21.02.2011
The (in this case East) wind doth (continue to) blow but (hopefully) we won`t have snow, so perhaps our Robin won`t need to hide his head under his wing.*
Still very grey but hey ho: good job February is a short month, as a colleague once said. (Think about it - we all nodded at the time and though it actually makes no sense in terms of the weather it`s a comforting thought).
Anyway dog and I set off. A notable lack of crows/rooks so I couldn`t study them properly but a deer "happened into (our) dimension",** skittering out of the trees suddenly, quite close, and then, as they always do, pausing to look back at us, a moment of stillness where we all seem to stop breathing.
Dog, I think, has finally accepted she`ll never catch one of these animals so just feels the need to `see it off` and eventually the deer obliges by pretending to "run away" so honour is satisfied all round.
*For anyone who had a deprived childhood...the original reads:
"The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm
and hide his head under his wing, poor thing."
** And while we`re on the poetry kick this is another Ted Hughes:
Roe Deer
"In the dawn-dirty light, in the biggest snow of the year
Two blue-dark deer stood in the road, alerted.
They had happened into my dimension
The moment I was arriving just there.
They planted their two or three years of secret deerhood
Clear on my snow-screen vision of the abnormal
And hesitated in the all-way disintegration
And stared at me. And so for some lasting seconds
I could think the deer were waiting for me
To remember the password and sign
That the curtain had blow aside for a moment
And there where the trees were no longer trees, nor the road a road
The deer had come for me.
Then they ducked through the hedge, and upright they rode their legs
Away downhill over a snow-lonely field
Towards tree-dark - finally
Seeming to eddy and glide and fly away up
Into the boil of big flakes
The snow took them and soon their nearby hoofprints as well
Revising its dawn inspiration
Back to the ordinary."
Still very grey but hey ho: good job February is a short month, as a colleague once said. (Think about it - we all nodded at the time and though it actually makes no sense in terms of the weather it`s a comforting thought).
Anyway dog and I set off. A notable lack of crows/rooks so I couldn`t study them properly but a deer "happened into (our) dimension",** skittering out of the trees suddenly, quite close, and then, as they always do, pausing to look back at us, a moment of stillness where we all seem to stop breathing.
Dog, I think, has finally accepted she`ll never catch one of these animals so just feels the need to `see it off` and eventually the deer obliges by pretending to "run away" so honour is satisfied all round.
*For anyone who had a deprived childhood...the original reads:
"The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm
and hide his head under his wing, poor thing."
** And while we`re on the poetry kick this is another Ted Hughes:
Roe Deer
"In the dawn-dirty light, in the biggest snow of the year
Two blue-dark deer stood in the road, alerted.
They had happened into my dimension
The moment I was arriving just there.
They planted their two or three years of secret deerhood
Clear on my snow-screen vision of the abnormal
And hesitated in the all-way disintegration
And stared at me. And so for some lasting seconds
I could think the deer were waiting for me
To remember the password and sign
That the curtain had blow aside for a moment
And there where the trees were no longer trees, nor the road a road
The deer had come for me.
Then they ducked through the hedge, and upright they rode their legs
Away downhill over a snow-lonely field
Towards tree-dark - finally
Seeming to eddy and glide and fly away up
Into the boil of big flakes
The snow took them and soon their nearby hoofprints as well
Revising its dawn inspiration
Back to the ordinary."
Saturday 19 February 2011
Saturday 19.02.2011
Today a perfect example of there being no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes. Bitter easterly wind whipping sleet horizontally across the fields. I donned several layers, including padded ski pants and my woolly Icelandic headband over my woolly hat. Sartorially challenged perhaps but good to go.
Fortunately dog couldn`t care less what I look like as long as I get out there. We battled up the road more or less into the teeth of the wind but once in amongst the trees the action was all overhead: you could have imagined from the noise that you were by the sea but where we walked was calm with just the odd flake of floating snow.
Too cold to stop and take pics even if I`d had a camera (pay day end of next week and am surfing ebay in anticipation) while on Thursday wouldn`t have taken any anyway because everything was swathed in low cloud and mist.
It was so grey and cold hadn`t intended to walk but by lunchtime at work was falling asleep so decided a brisk trot round the block was in order to get me through the afternoon.
And a very strange thing happened. Earlier in the day I`d come across a Ted Hughes poem about rooks.*
It happened that I passed the local school just as children were emerging for lunch and a flurry of them ran out in front of me, all gawky and giggling, and shouting and excited, with their dark school uniforms flapping in the wind.......and it was the poem all over again.
*Rooks love excitement. When I walked in under the rookery
A gale churned the silvery, muscular boughs of the beeches, and the
wet leaves streamed -
It was like a big sea heaving through wreckage -
And the whole crew of rooks lifted off with a shout and floated clear.
I could see the oiled lights in their waterproofs
As the blue spilled them this way and that, and their cries stormed.
Were they shouting at me? What did they fear?
It sounded
More like a packed football stadium, at the shock of a longed-for
goal -
A sudden uplifting of everything, a surfing cheer.
That`s what it was with those children - a sudden uplifting of everything.
And are my crows in fact rooks? Questions, questions.
And if you haven`t watched the Dimbleby Lecture yet,catch it while you can - and cheer.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00ymf57/The_Richard_Dimbleby_Lecture_15_02_2011/
Fortunately dog couldn`t care less what I look like as long as I get out there. We battled up the road more or less into the teeth of the wind but once in amongst the trees the action was all overhead: you could have imagined from the noise that you were by the sea but where we walked was calm with just the odd flake of floating snow.
Too cold to stop and take pics even if I`d had a camera (pay day end of next week and am surfing ebay in anticipation) while on Thursday wouldn`t have taken any anyway because everything was swathed in low cloud and mist.
It was so grey and cold hadn`t intended to walk but by lunchtime at work was falling asleep so decided a brisk trot round the block was in order to get me through the afternoon.
And a very strange thing happened. Earlier in the day I`d come across a Ted Hughes poem about rooks.*
It happened that I passed the local school just as children were emerging for lunch and a flurry of them ran out in front of me, all gawky and giggling, and shouting and excited, with their dark school uniforms flapping in the wind.......and it was the poem all over again.
*Rooks love excitement. When I walked in under the rookery
A gale churned the silvery, muscular boughs of the beeches, and the
wet leaves streamed -
It was like a big sea heaving through wreckage -
And the whole crew of rooks lifted off with a shout and floated clear.
I could see the oiled lights in their waterproofs
As the blue spilled them this way and that, and their cries stormed.
Were they shouting at me? What did they fear?
It sounded
More like a packed football stadium, at the shock of a longed-for
goal -
A sudden uplifting of everything, a surfing cheer.
That`s what it was with those children - a sudden uplifting of everything.
And are my crows in fact rooks? Questions, questions.
And if you haven`t watched the Dimbleby Lecture yet,catch it while you can - and cheer.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00ymf57/The_Richard_Dimbleby_Lecture_15_02_2011/
Wednesday 16 February 2011
Wednesday 16.02.2011
So we sang and we danced and we sang a bit more (The Road especially loudly for frankiesoup - see yesterday`s post) and we jumped up and down quite a bit and sang some more and I`m just home now, hoarse and with my ears ringing and a smile a mile wide. Great night: "who`d have thought rock`n`roll could save us all."
Tuesday 15 February 2011
Tuesday 15.02.2011
Slightly off message for a blog that is essentially about walking but while I was driving to work this afternoon I was mulling over an old post* from Frankiesoup`s Blog which I came across whilst randomly following links last night when I should have already been in bed, as you do.
One of the phrases that had stuck in my head was "I want to drive down side roads without knowing where they go" when lo and behold I came across a Road Closed sign and was forced to do just that.
To my delight I found myself meandering I knew not where along a windy road which was roughly in the right direction (ha! spot the cheesy `life` metaphor).
Even better I rounded a bend to be confronted by a sign I don`t think I`ve ever seen before - a small solitary exclamation mark in a red triangle. No writing, no explanation, just this little sign.
Brilliant. I had no idea to what it referred but it put me on my guard for any eventuality (on this occasion it was a narrow bridge) and I`m now firmly of the opinion that we could do away with every other kind of warning sign and simply stick exclamation marks up in appropriate places.
It`s a good thing we have to negotiate life`s "road" without warning signs though or we might miss the best bits............
*12.11.2009 Thought provoking but remember, as long as you
"keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored, somewhere secret,somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door"
all will be well......Frank tomorrow night - way hey!
One of the phrases that had stuck in my head was "I want to drive down side roads without knowing where they go" when lo and behold I came across a Road Closed sign and was forced to do just that.
To my delight I found myself meandering I knew not where along a windy road which was roughly in the right direction (ha! spot the cheesy `life` metaphor).
Even better I rounded a bend to be confronted by a sign I don`t think I`ve ever seen before - a small solitary exclamation mark in a red triangle. No writing, no explanation, just this little sign.
Brilliant. I had no idea to what it referred but it put me on my guard for any eventuality (on this occasion it was a narrow bridge) and I`m now firmly of the opinion that we could do away with every other kind of warning sign and simply stick exclamation marks up in appropriate places.
It`s a good thing we have to negotiate life`s "road" without warning signs though or we might miss the best bits............
*12.11.2009 Thought provoking but remember, as long as you
"keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored, somewhere secret,somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door"
all will be well......Frank tomorrow night - way hey!
Sunday 13 February 2011
Sunday 13.02.2011
What do you do on a grey, damp Sunday morning when there`s a blustery cold wind blowing and the promise of rain or even snow showers and you have lots of things you want to do before you have to go to work?
You get out there is what or the day escapes.
So we strode up the hill, dog scurrying about, me wishing I`d put a hat on, walking really fast to warm up.
The crows made a big fuss as we passed but really just showing off their swooping and diving skills. A huge hare galloped across the field in front of us: slightly spooky things - don`t witches turn themselves into hares so they can steal milk direct from the cow`s teat? Or something.
Back in perfect time for boiled egg and soldiers, toast, marmalade and heinously strong black coffee accompanied by a few choruses of "I Still Believe" (Frank Turner`s song that is, not the execrable Bachelor`s anthem from aeons ago -I`m getting in the mood for Frank on Wednesday night re-scheduled from before Christmas because of the snow, which is why more snow is forecast of course).
And there we are, on with the rest of the day`s activities, all warm and snug - and smug - watching the weather deteriorate outside. Carpe diem indeed.
You get out there is what or the day escapes.
So we strode up the hill, dog scurrying about, me wishing I`d put a hat on, walking really fast to warm up.
The crows made a big fuss as we passed but really just showing off their swooping and diving skills. A huge hare galloped across the field in front of us: slightly spooky things - don`t witches turn themselves into hares so they can steal milk direct from the cow`s teat? Or something.
Back in perfect time for boiled egg and soldiers, toast, marmalade and heinously strong black coffee accompanied by a few choruses of "I Still Believe" (Frank Turner`s song that is, not the execrable Bachelor`s anthem from aeons ago -I`m getting in the mood for Frank on Wednesday night re-scheduled from before Christmas because of the snow, which is why more snow is forecast of course).
And there we are, on with the rest of the day`s activities, all warm and snug - and smug - watching the weather deteriorate outside. Carpe diem indeed.
Tuesday 8 February 2011
Tuesday 08.02.2011 (by 18 minutes)
What was that about tempting fate? Woke up to snow this morning and had to be in Aberdeen most of the day so driving in wasn`t much fun.
But, take your walks where you can, so parked up at work and walked into the city centre, a good twenty minute trot down.
Must have covered a few more miles around and about (including buying a ticket to see Mark Steel next month - hooray) and then back up the hill to work.
It may not have the obvious attractions of the country but there`s always a buzz about a city which in its own way can be invigorating.
Back late tonight under starlit skies on very icy roads but at least no snow.
But, take your walks where you can, so parked up at work and walked into the city centre, a good twenty minute trot down.
Must have covered a few more miles around and about (including buying a ticket to see Mark Steel next month - hooray) and then back up the hill to work.
It may not have the obvious attractions of the country but there`s always a buzz about a city which in its own way can be invigorating.
Back late tonight under starlit skies on very icy roads but at least no snow.
Saturday 5 February 2011
Saturday 05.02.2011
Set off up the hill this morning walking straight into the fiercely cold southwesterly wind, a bit like diving into icy water. Still, it was bright,clear and dry - needle-sharp Ben Rinnes on the horizon looking fantastic covered in snow - and the sun even had a little warmth in it once we were in the shelter of the woods.
Masses of crows mobbing a solitary buzzard and plenty of smaller birds tuning up: what with that and the snowdrops and other green shoots pushing up you could persuade yourself winter was on its way out - if you believed in tempting fate.
Masses of crows mobbing a solitary buzzard and plenty of smaller birds tuning up: what with that and the snowdrops and other green shoots pushing up you could persuade yourself winter was on its way out - if you believed in tempting fate.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
