The moon's in the heavens
Rivers run to the sea
The snowdrops are out
And all's well.
Have a lovely weekend :)
Pictures speak quietly
Just some views of and about the world I see and live in, when I have leisure to record it.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
About Me
- Name: mig bardsley
- Location: Newbury, United Kingdom
I take a lot of photos. I eat and drink a little (just a little) too much, read fast, play a violin slowly, love my kids, husband, dog, cats, home, the English landscape, most other landscapes, music, the changing seasons, sparkle and texture and colour, my friends, my computer, my car ~ my life really. What more do you need? I don't sleep enough and I'm always late. Well you can't have everything.
6 comments:
I was out last night staring at that moon, in complete awe.
These photo's are wonderful, but the moon one...WOWZA!
(Hope your violin playing went well!)
Wow.
I was moonwatching myself! Wee whisps of clouds passing around it--not near as cloudy as the photo, but impressive none the less.
Tonight I was Orion gazing and thinking (Warning, warning!!) and making wishes..... Another gorgeous moon and a brilliant clear sky.
I'm not going to whine about the snowdrops.
I won't.
Nope.
NOT whining.
Can't make me.....
*pulling up the quilt and mumbling*
Oh Oops. Blogger's gone funny, I just lost a comment!
As I was saying, when Blogger cut me off Sorrow, the moon with clouds sailing past always reminds me of a favourite poem from childhood, very tragic and heroic, called The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes.
The gig was good thank you :)
I always wonder who else is moonwatching Mel:)
Wishes :) I expect I can guess what some of them are about. Me too.
I was watching the moon too. . .
sitting out on the back step having an early evening fag
and the other day I drove past the very swollen river and thought of your flood photos and thought of you. . .
I love snowdrops! don't they look beautiful contrasted against that beech hedge?!
and your post has reminded me of one of my favourite childhood poems, if you'll let me indulge you:
"Is anybody there?" said the Traveler,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence chomped the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor.
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the traveler's head:
And he smote upon the door a second time;
"Is there anybody there?" he said.
But no one descended to the Traveler;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his gray eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveler's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:--
"Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word," he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Aye, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.
thought you wouldn't mind!
X
Oh I loved this poem too. I'd forgotten it and thank you for reminding me.
It struck that maybe fantasy works like LOTR wouldn't have happened without this literary tradition behind them.
Hey, I just thought, the Thames flows from here to London. One day I'll send you a message - in a bottle?
xxx too :)
let me know, and I'll look out for it!
;-)
(my other favourite WdlM is "ever ever stir and shiver, reeds and rushes by the river. . .")
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