The calm before the storm …

Within half an hour of these photographs, there was a rip-roaring thunderstorm dancing overhead – whip cracking lightning and obstreperous rolling thunder followed by a short, sharp deluge.

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“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” John Muir

One Word Wednesday – Contrast

The high mountains are full of contrast and character.

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Sunday was cold, grey and austere with a dusting of snow.

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Tuesday dawned hot, bright and full of riotous colour.

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“The greatest gift of life on the mountain is time. Time to think or not think, read or not read, scribble or not scribble – to sleep and cook and walk in the woods, to sit and stare at the shapes of the hills.” Philip Connors

Five Photographs – Image 2

I took this on a somewhat lengthier excursion on Sunday. We had stopped for lunch on the escarpment and a passing rain shower eventually caught up with us. While eating my ham & cheese roll and trying to keep the camera dry this shaft of light from a dark and gloomy sky caught my eye. You could say the image is too dark in places and could do with some tweaking but I like the drama.

Once upon a time

there was a fairy tale that left a lasting impression on me. I’ve always been a reader of things and from amongst the plethora of childhood tales the story of “The Little Match Girl” by Hans Christian Andersen has remained emblazoned on some far hidden corner of my mind. If not so much for the literary content as for the iconic image of a little girl in a dire situation ……

We’ve been experiencing a dismal late winter this year, the whole country has been gripped with severe weather and as I sit in my office chair (studiously ignoring a pile of work that calls my name loudly and vociferously) the wind is howling viciously outside. Snow has been falling just up the road and a liquid deluge invading the coast. Yet less than a month ago, on a weekend break in the mountains this was the vista that we opened our eyes to every morning – a festival of sunshine, gentle breezes and forever blue skies.

 

A particulary pernicious gust that tickled my ribs (despite suitable layering) during today’s riotous lunchtime scurry between various business institutions and you have ….

” And the sky was dark with menace,

Clouds rolled around in angry discourse,

A fierce wind pierced the thin fabric of her coat and it was as though an icy hand reached down into her very soul to quash the last embers of hope.

A flicker of white caught her eye, snow – not the stuff of childhood, no snow angels or hot chocolate, no vestige of glee, no anticipation of play.

Instead a harbinger of doom, death apparent in it’s soft embrace for the weak, the homeless, the faceless figures on the street.”

~ xxx ~

 

Big Skies, No Rain and wistful thinking

  

  

Snapped out of the passenger seat with trusty cellphone (nokia something or the other) while out and about over the weekend. Skies full of promise and not a drop of rain – it’s so dry you can literally feel the life evaporating out of all and sundry. It’s been really oppressive in our part of the world – almost as though you’re moving in a primeval ooze, in truth summer is not my favourite time of the year. Bring on the crispness of autumn and the bite of winter.

We continue to walk twice a week and as much as it pains me to admit it’s incredibly therapeutic. Getting going is the biggest hurdle to overcome, especially after a crap work day. We are fortunate to live in a “green belt” with lots of trees, a valley or two and a smattering of quietish roads to pound and once the initial shock has worn off of actually having to exercise your lungs for some other reason than yelling obscenities there is a certain rhythm to the whole process which helps to clear your head. The sound of the wind through a family of pine trees, teeny tiny bats of some description swooping through the rays of a waning sun, even the incredulous glances of passing motorists as they roar off to some incredibly important destination makes for a rich 45 minutes.

Walking on Sunshine

In a general rambly sort of way – the suns sort of out,

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Hooray, everything is taking on a distinct tinge of green after weeks of non-stop rain. No veging about mind you – opportunities abound for washing linen and towels and letting them dry their silky selves in the fresh air, I mean the glorious indulgence of sun dried goodies is just as fabulous as a weekend in the mountains under a big open sky with the latest must read and a bottle of pink bubbles – well it is, isn’t it? That said, it would be most useful if the rays would last until I get home from work – are you listening up there washing wookie?

My heart is a little sad today – a really good friend is in a really bad marriage (not physically or financially but mental abuse is just as destructive) with a weak, manipulative, selfish little man, her only light is three fabulous children.

She phoned me today,

she wanted to talk,

I wanted to tell her to get out,

I didn’t,

I listened,

I supported,

She felt better,

For how long?

“Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn’t know that so it goes on flying anyway.  ~Mary Kay Ash”