Shimmering gold

is Dean Burn

on a Sunday afternoon.

I’d just been having outdoor sex in the Spring sunshine.

And now we went down to dip our toes in this golden stream.

One of those “moments”

Seeing what you want to believe

What’s that out in the Bay?

Looks like 2 seals playing.

I need to go and investigate. Clamber over the rocks to get nearer.

In the gathering gloom, in the magical twilight

anything is possible.

A Monster from The Deep anybody?…..Lol

At the side of the road

Dropping off my Fiesta for its MOT i walked past these 2 caravans

They’ve been parked up here for years (for as long as i’ve been MOTing cars with Mike the Mechanic)

Scratching out a meagre mini life.

Who’s in there and how do they survive i was wondering? A homeless old farmhand perhaps? A diehard gypo traveller? A hermit? A wiseman?

The curly woodsmoke puffing up out of the little woodburner made me feel comforted somehow – quietly signaling their non-conforming existence.

Good on.

Returning later on the woodburner was still puffing away.

(Meanwhile the Fiesta failed its MOT miserably and beyond my means to repair. Time to retire it to the side of the road. Part of my mini life)

To Love, or Not to Love

Valentines day on a dull day in Plymouth.

Without love in existence for you, you are resigned to solitary compensations; sat alone outside Cafe Roma reading a big fat book (on “Post Modernist Conceptions of the Utilitarian Valence of… Valentine’s Day” say….Lol)

Or maybe love is in existence for you and looks like this:

A chunky black guy clung on to his  fat “babe”.

There was something slightly “special needs” about them.

Or maybe they were just being chavvy lovey dovey dopey.

They luv one another so much – he’ll get her pregnant in a minute, and they’ll end up living in a rubbish council flat in St Budeaux.

Claiming benefits.

Then he’ll leave her.

Or get sent to prison.

For beating her up.

Or dealing crack.

Oh dear.

Oh well.

Make of lurv what you will while it lasts.

It’s what makes the merry go round go round.

Snowing in Buckie

I’m looking out of the bedroom window at 8 this morning.

It’s snowing all over the town

First time i’ve seen snow in Buckfastleigh, and i’ve been here 18 years.

Not as heavy or thick as in other parts of the UK – but it’s still real actual living snow!

I’m gonna go out and chuck snowballs at pompous people. Knock off their funny hats.

Shimmery wintery sea

I love going by train somewhere, anywhere.

Especially when you look out of the window and see this

Past Teignmouth and going towards Exeter we were.

That cold sun stroking the waves in.

Wintery sea shimmering right up against the window.

One solitary duck

The light was fading fast (hence the picture quality isn’t great)

Gone for a walk in Hembury Woods. This solitary duck floated by on the river (Dart), heading towards rapid breakwater.

Impulsively, i wanted to follow his headlong glide into the surging torrent. He seemed so small and vulnerable.

I ran along the bank. He’d disappeared. Gone under. Swept away.

Then he re-appeared. He was ok. Been ducking and diving for fish (could a duck that small take a big brown trout i wondered)

Only stayed in there for 10 minutes then returned. Exhausted.

“So much depends

on one single duck

floating, fishing,

fishing, floating

this dark afternoon.

So brave,

so alone

- and so at ease“.

(with my William Carlos Williams hat on)

A proper winter

This is what i’m waking up to in the last few mornings.

A rooftop skating rink for birds.

As seen from the kitchen window.

Frost, frosty, frostiness.

“We haven’t seen a winter like this for some time” says TV weatherman.

Proper frost, proper fog, proper ice, proper cold.

All we need now is some of that proper snow they’ve been getting up t’north.

And i’m still not putting the heating on (Lol)

Wish you were here

What do you reckon? Fancy it?

To sit here in this sumptuous leather green armchair listening to Stars of the Lid on your ipod, flicking thro the book of Burmese proverbs you’ve just bought in Harlequin, glancing thro the great pics you took this morning of hidden wooded deer, blogging on your laptop (about sitting in a cafe) the lovely you feel life is just to be alive in.

Sipping a pot of strong Italian coffee.

The cold rain outside slashes hard across the window. You’re bug as a snug. A fire is gonna be lit soon just behind. A real fire. It’s crackle and glow will make you want (in a minute) a big mug of creamy hot chocolate. And a huge slice of Black Forest Gateux.

You’ve got 2 hours of long slow worry-free afternoon to slide and sink into. No pressure, no stress. Nowhere to be getting to. Nowhere to be getting away from.

Just being here. Is all.

All there needs to be.

Stillness so straight and true

Into a tall stand of conifers at Stover Park i go

I laid down flat on my back and looked up this pine.

To get something of it’s quality of straight uprightness, it’s strength and solidity.

Wherever up you looked, these tall trees always seemed to be leaving some space in the canopy, a hole for the sky to fall through, and the sun to glance a glint.

I took pics, but none really did justice to what i was seeing and experiencing.

You could hear a pin – or pine needle – drop it was so silent in there.

And still.

Total stillness. Going up as far as the eye could see.

Straight and true.