December 24th

the drifting crow cloud

amorphous silent passage

memories of war

I saw a huge murder of crows, just drifting high, silent wingbeats, moving on to somewhere new. It reminded me of old wartime newsreels, squadrons of aircraft in the second world war. I thought of my mum who lived through the occupation of Pireas and Greece in the second world war. Did she ever have flashbacks? She was only a little girl. She was scared and hungry through the cold winter. Most of our generation has never had to live through war, I’m grateful and guilty.

December 22nd

an ugly red smear

two wary shadows unfurl

spill black in the air

Two crows skulking over crushed roadkill, staking each other out, floating at each other in a non-violent contest. The sky was grey, the rain was falling. I didn’t get to see who won, who broke first. I drove on. Little dramas of nature are all around us. We (sometimes) only get a tiny window into them, it allows us to apply our own comprehension and fiction. It might have had nothing to do with what I’ve written of course, but it just goes to show, what does “truth” actually mean? I guess historians ask themselves this question, or I hope they do. I wont debate it, as I’m not clever enough to philosophise!

December 4th

Sleeping cormorants

fairy lights on the far bank

Orion’s display

I was out in London, the moon and lights on the South Bank shone over the Thames. And when I got home, Orion distinctively shone out of the dark sky.

November 27th

a stack of gulls climb

shoot through grey rain ready skies

puncturing the clouds

October 14th

through a dark filter

sun retired, heavens cleansed of

clouds in starry night

October 6th

the sheen of night rain

blue sky cut by vapour trails

the road a river

October 1st

 

lovers or rivals

two buzzards circling closer

becoming one wing

August 31st

Seven swans flying

a silent glide across the grey

the sky a still pool

I was on the bus going from the airport into central Dublin and I saw the unusual sight of seven swans flying. So powerful yet effortless they drove through the sky. It made me think of the Children of Lir, enchanted by their adopted mother, cursed to spend nine hundred years as swans. When their curse was lifted and they became human again, no one they knew was still alive, the world had changed. Such a sad tale.

In the evening I heard this song live. I felt introspective and reflective. I was listening to this album around the time my mum died.

August 5th

hammer swings wind sings

clouds billow devour the blue

burst and roar downpour 

I like it when the world goes dark when thunder is imminent. Thor’s giving it large in the sky again.

July 30th

 

naked athletes run

laconic warriors box

under golden skies

I do like the Olympics, but the whole commercialism of sport pisses me right off. Many fans have missed out on tickets because sponsors have lapped up loads. I don’t really see a trickle down of wealth coming down to your average worker or independent trader as the money seems to have corralled by some key corporations.

I wonder what the Olympics would be like if we reverted to the Ancient format of the games, with Chariot racing for instance. I’m not that keen on naked running / wrestling, but hey, if it makes it authentic, why not. (other people competing, not me!).

As I watched the games, I took this photo from our living room window.

July 24th

broken memories

snippets of cloudless skies form

as the cool air rolls

 

I don’t remember doing much, my senses must’ve been dulled today. But it was nice and I drove with the air con blasting and my music playing.

July 11th

moody sky bloated

ground bound ugly bitter grey

manifestation

June 29th

 

the wind drags the sky

cloud watcher rests in goose down

an empty pastime

June 1st

 

the scent of jasmine

cicadas sing in the yard 

shooting stars kind smiles

This one talks of memories of Cyprus. Sitting out late, talking, happy times, watching the sky and being so excited as a little boy, when I saw a shooting star for the first time.

One of my aunts died. She was a lovely generous giving lady. Though she had no children of her own, she looked after everyone else with an uncomplaining unconditional duty of love. A refugee (like almost all of my family) who never returned to her home village. Behind the happiness, there was always a deep melancholy, a sense of yearning for the familiar, for even happier times, for old neighbours now scattered by war, for home, for the mountains meeting the sea and the village nestled on the coast. Sadly, my parents generation is slowly getting ill, passing on. As the youngest of all my cousins by far it throws mortality at me, the transience of our time on earth stark and ugly.

May 24th

 

The Devil’s wisdom

sanctity of solitude

stares through hollow souls

After playing football, I decided to make use of the beautifully warm evening and take a run up Pegsdon Hills. Getting to the top at sunset you are rewarded with the fiery end of the day. There was a haze in the sky, it was particularly red. And the black sheep with their peculiarly sinister horns were amassed, giving me the opportunity to take some wonderful pictures (even if I do say so myself!) of them and the stunted little hawthorns, some of which were starting to bloom.

Sheep and goats have got a rough deal over the centuries, their features and eyes giving them a devilish appearance. But you know, it isn’t their fault we stuck a label on them :)

I love going to the hills, it gives time to think, there’s rarely people up there. Solitude and reflection is something to treasure.

April 27th

Sheep sewn like buttons

rain flattened bodies shiver

curls drip in their eyes

tumbled in valleys

they look toward the hill crest

beckoning blue sings

Two Haikus squashed together today. Although strictly you don’t have to follow the 5-7-5 structure, I have to date. So it was quite nice that these two worked so well together.

The story behind today’s offering is as follows: As I drove home from work in the horrible dark rain, I saw a flock of unhappy sheep on the lower slopes of Pegsdon Hills, they were utterly drenched, the poor things, looked like they had sunk into the earth, squashed little cotton buds, mushrooms or indeed buttons sewn into the hillside. They looked like they were freezing cold, you couldn’t see their faces because their fringes were slapped in their eyes. I wasn’t sure whether they could see a little hint of a blue sky at the crest of the hill, but it was there. Sadly it was late in the evening, so whatever brief respite from the rain they did get, wouldn’t have dried them out.

April 1st

The blackthorn archway

promised enchantment, a door

distant bells ring out

 

What a beautiful walk this morning. One of the blackthorn trees on the edge of the moors, bathed in the warming sun of early spring, was flowering. It must sit in a sun trap, as the other blackthorns nearby were not as magnificently decked out as this beauty. The sky was a clear blue, the morning chill was ebbing away. There were birds everywhere. Woodpeckers (Green and Great Spotted), Buzzards, Chiff-Chaffs, Treecreepers to name some of the more unusual ones.

Managed to get some (I say this humbly!) wonderful photos. Here are four, two of the blackthorn tree in question, one of a feisty wren who took exception to my presence and sat above my head singing loudly at me (I assume telling me in musical terms to “piss off”). And finally a teeny baby frog Debbie found on the moors. It is very early for a juvenile frog, when most of the new brood seem to have only just hatched into tadpoles, seething in the shallow ponds and stagnant parts of the river, not sure how it emerged so quickly as I doubt something this small crawled up onto land last spring.

March 31st

Winter blows a kiss

A stony chill descending

Grey squirrel grey sky

March 26th

 

Aphrodites pearl

Ares chariot charges

Blood against the sky

 

I noticed a couple of friends on twitter / facebook suggesting going outside to have a look at the planets clear in the sky. And yes, there was Venus, massively bright, next to the quarter moon, Jupiter just below and higher up, Mars, twinkling pink/red. We walked to the edge of the moors where the light pollution would be less and although I’m not really a stargazer I have to say I was impressed.

Perfect for a haiku about Greek gods. Why Greek gods? Well, flippin’ Romans, what have they ever done for us? Coming over here, nicking our women, nicking our Gods….

March 19th

Behind the blackouts

a faultless sky forgiving

alive and lucid

 

Blackout curtains are great, I think they help me to sleep better. The absence of light helps me to turn off part of my brain and leads to restful nights. I like the lottery of mornings, blearly eyed, staggering to the window to open it a peep. Check what the weather is like. How do I know it’s morning if I keep going on about flippin’ blackout curtains? Because I’ve got an alarm silly! Dur!

Anyway this morning was beautifully sunny, my pupils shrunk in pain at the sunlight assault pouring through onto my retinas. When they adjusted a bit I looked out to a perfect blue sky. The clouds were absent. Wonderful.