Al, close up & personal (& in a tree)
“All the tree knew was that it thrilled with life” – Edgar Lee Masters, Spoon River Anthology
The picture above was taken earlier today. I happened to be taking photos of the garden when Al – aka the Cat Who Came to Dinner – went up the elder tree, and after a bird. As well as successfully coaxing him down by appealing to his stomach, I managed to get this shot of him.
This is the chap who got away:
A lucky robin
My mood is as changeable as the weather, not helped by the fact that I’m officially a Crumbly. Thank you, “slightly reduced bone density”. Whether this is due to radiotherapy, medication, or my age, is a coin toss. So is whether my moodiness is down to my bipolar, meds, or circumstances.
Add to this, I’ve not been spending much time outside. My excuse has been I have a lot of writing to do: true, but not helpful when I piss about on the internet instead.
Sometimes, the walk to and from work – especially from, if I’m not too tired – helps fill my green spaces gap. It can also provide food for writing. I’m fortune that my commute includes this:
Foggy Donny, autumn 2015
I love autumn, but it doesn’t always love me. Once again, I’m struggling to get to folk club, and to the monthly “Spoken Word” events. Which is sad, because I enjoy them, even if my writing is too weird, and / or not right on enough for most tastes. The wine, beer, and company are excellent, however. It’s worth going to folk club just on the off chance that Mick and Angie will play and sing “McCafferty“. The link is to the Dubliners. To imagine Mick and Angie’s version, change the accent from Irish to Yorkshire, and the instruments to guitar, and harmonica.
With National Poetry Day just a week away, it seemed a good time for a poetic blog.
With Leaves like Shoppers
Yesterday, I was okay
with autumn
with the damp grass
which tags along,
on boot, and cuff,
the dark bird which pops
over, and hops
to check its mate’s
breakfast, a miniature,
single-toned penguin,
waddling up
this muddy path.
Later, a chill
sweeps through
pink pirate scarf,
and purple uni sweatshirt,
as leaves rush past
like busy shoppers,
impatient for Christmastime.
I hope you enjoy the autumn, and its beautiful light. This is a summer song, but it seems apt.
Autumnal sky, 30 Sept 2016
Tagged: autumn, bipolar, birds, Cancer, cats, folk, Kate Bush, mood disorder, National Poetry Day, nature, poetry, spoken word, the Dubliners, trees, writing 
