For me there was an atavistic connection: strong and raw. Unsophisticated, preliterate.
There was a darkness so thick it felt like a warm bath, yet the air was crackling sharp with cold. And the pin-bright sliver of moon hung over the water between the cliffs. A scimitar shining; sprinkling magic. Continue reading “The View From Here: reaching back”
In a world of bustle and change there is always stillness
Outside, it has been a mild day: mild but moist. The air scarcely breathes: a stark contrast to yesterday’s winds. But whilst yesterday was wild and spirited, today seems damp and tired. Listless.
As I approached the post box at the top of the hill this morning, I met Peter, our farming neighbour, and his son, Edward. There was clear evidence on the road of their most recent task: the cows had been brought in. Were they coming in for the winter?
Out of sight a cow bellowed mournfully. If she has begun her winter incarceration, it will be many months before she and her sisters are once again on the valley slopes. The view from here will have emptied. Our view is never quite in harmony when the cows have gone. Continue reading “The view from here: a Tuesday in October”
The cycles of life don’t change; they continue to turn steadily.
Four months to the day since my last post! For the past little while it has been exceedingly quiet in my corner of the blogging world. But just recently, for the first time in weeks, I’ve felt the stirrings of an urge to write and the brainpower to follow it through. That has to be a good thing. Continue reading “The View from Here – April to August. Focusing on the Good Things”
What will be the colour of April that I’ll remember when this month wanes?
“Oh to be in England now that April’s there… “
I think Browning would have yearned particularly for April in England year: in this corner of England at least. Continue reading “The View from Here: the rhythms of life”
The view from here in the present gives no clue to the drama in its past
The beaches are not the only places to be deserted in Cornwall in the winter. We visited Cawsand and Kingsand, two small villages joined at the hip, which at one time straddled the Cornwall/Devon border. (The border has now been shifted further east and follows the course of the River Tamar.) Had I known of the old border when we were in the villages, I would have looked out for the actual house which perches astride it and proclaims its unique position in its house name. Continue reading “The View from Here: from winters past to winters present”
… there will be
No Dog In This House…
I acquired a canine companion on a walk recently. Bruce is a young black lab who hails from our neighbouring farm. I tried to make him return to the farmhouse but he was having none of it. He and his fellow canines do often amble between farm and farmhouse. I thought perhaps if I walked on and ignored him, he would get bored and head back. Nope. Continue reading “The View From Here is most definitely feline”
At least it solves the delicate problem of who to ask to buy those red knickers.
This weekend’s new moon ushered in the Chinese New Year. It is the year of the Rooster: the Fire Rooster no less. I knew I was born in the year of the Rooster but only now have I learned that I am a Fire Rooster. Fire Roosters are apparently trustworthy, with a strong sense of time-keeping and responsibility at work. I doubt there is anyone that knows me who would vouch for my strong sense of time-keeping but the other two attributes I’d like to think were applicable. I am in august company, it seems. In no particular order, more famous fellow Fire Roosters include Dawn French, Donny Osmond, Jools Holland, Stephen Fry, Hans Zimmer and Martin Luther King III. Who knew! Continue reading “The View from Here: family, fizz, fireworks and damp squibs”