Up in Tall girl's spare room, you are up among the hill tops and chimney pots, the abode of jackdaws. I stood on a chair and stuck my head out of the velux, and communed with them. They are probably my favourites among the crow tribe.
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The overspill from Anna's and my qarrtsiluni contribution went to the excellent Postal Poetry site. It's here, with notes.
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Saved Nut # 7.
'Purple'. I like to get a bit rapturous sometimes, when I get the chance. Sometimes alcohol and a good meal brings it on, not exclusively, and taking a digestif is quite unusual these days. Slightly tweaked. I still miss Richard Lawrence Cohen...
I think I'll go on doing these for a bit; it's clearly still winter, so saved nuts are still in order.
13 comments:
Are those jackdaws looking at you?
The one under the cowl seems content with its view.
Didn't realize I was holding my breath reading "Purple" until the satisfied sigh at the end. Ah, Lucy, you've inspired me to keep my camera in its case today.
Lovely shots and great shapes in those pots. I love corvids of all types, they are so clever.
Purple is a beautifully lyrical piece. I think times without the camera are important, otherwise our eye starts to become a mere viewfinder. But it is hard to go cold turkey, and you have to stop the withdrawl symptoms from spoiling an otherwise lovely walk
Eating fish close to the Brittany sea; a ritual, an obligation, a salute to an unyielding coast divorced from Aquitaine's dunes and the sluggishness of the Cote d'Azure. A gesture of self-interest, too, since the best fish seems to come from the coldest water. Me, I'm a coward. At worst it would have been Muscadet (never Gros Plante), at best Savennière. Only a couple bien dans sa peau - can it apply to couples? - and unafraid of regionalistic waiters would have gone for Alsace.
Colour. Sailing from Pornichet to Belle Isle, out of sight of land, the sea a metre below my elbow. I can make a better fist of describing wine than that flickering green where the suggestion of depth is its own colour. I'm not doing myself any favours reading Box Elder. Should we have sold the house?
What a delightful bunch!
i have no idea who "our jackdaws" would be, but our catbirds are comics and friends...i look forward to their company. They will be arriving back in the garden by the end of the month, i think.
Thanks, good people.
Jackdaws seem to lack the cruelty one associates with other corvids, though I don't know if this is really the case. They also seem to be the ones most closely dependent on human settlement and buildings.
The light would not have been good enough for my camera that evening, but also, taking photographs can have the effect of separating one from one's human companion(s) (dogs are fine).
BB - wine dark, perhaps, that sea?
Either happy in our skins or oenologically ignorant. The Alsace Tokay was an unusual thing to be offered, and went fine, I seem to recall, with the fairly rich way the seafood was cooked. Savennieres is rare on menus anywhere we tend to eat I think; I'm very fond of it. Tom is not a great muscadet drinker. Gros Plante really only fit to cook the fish in.
lovely photos, jackdaws have so much character
Hi Licy, just dropping by to say I haven't forgotten you! I love it when you type long comments for me..and you always sound so warm and friendly when you do..I've never heard of jackdaws..hmm nice to learn it here.
Great pot-shots, Lucy. And I loved the Hebden Bridge photos too.
Oh good, I'm glad some of the jackdaw shots came out well. You're so low-key about your photgraphy it has been quite a revelation to see how much lovely stuff came out of your visit here!
... and another thing ... your photography just gets better and better !
Mossy pots filled with jackdaws are novel to me. I enjoyed reading Purple again... your descriptions of colors are satisfying.
I love the jackdaws and have left a note for you on the Postal Poetry site.
'Purple' is gorgeous, Lucy - a sensory feast. Thank you.
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