Posts Tagged ‘clouds’

Looking towards Carn Wen at evening.

To watch the pass
of light and dark
and how they each
shape these hills, this way and that,
is all I wish now to do.
we live, we die
as the distances reveal themselves
then vanish with the pass of a cloud.

if not to fill our time with beauty,
if not to see the world as it becomes us,
then what?
a flicker of pain, a flight upwards of joy
and the rolling of light in the valleys.
what other instruction
for a being of discernment?
what other lesson but this?
and to count the days
’til cuckoos and swallows.
and to keep to the constellations
of sheep and the openness
of lambs.

we shall end again soon enough.
peace is here
and it is sufficient for a whole universe.
and to watch the clouds pile
and drift at the setting sun.
and the smell of dew
on grass.


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The morning is
Daffodils and speedwell.

Above the tumble,
Jackdaws skim and surf
Blurred wind.

There will be,
(Say the clouds),
An afternoon of shadows
Collecting rainbows.

A season of light,
A thimble
Of forgetfulness.

Dawn reflex
A refection of cloud.
Nothing I could have done better.

Dappled elegance, cold blanket,
A tipping of scales,
A slow drift to the east.

A furrow, cross-cutting purpose,
A tiny friction, a wing-beat.

A sampling of enigmatic facts,
A certain blue
A certain distance,
A shading off into infinity.

(refection = a remaking, a nutrient, a food for body, mind and spirit)

New rising
Mist and birds,
Rising with the sun.
Rabbits pause and scatter.
Slow hills take form.
Heaven divides from earth.
A bleating of lambs.

Light in lines and waves
A moment mirroring
Off rooftop frost.
White grasses shudder and steam.
A birth of shadows, proud instants
No longer in between.

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Cloud rests, winged.
Feathered, these upland mists.
Green grey the day along
Swathed and shrouded hills.

The still, one prayer, arcs
The scooped valleys.
(Pitted the stones,

A bell, a peal:
A gathered fruitfulness,
A hymnal of sunlit days.
In sainted, beached ship,
Sails of praise turn tides.

We become indwelling,
The promise of rain,
The blackbird’s quiver-
Heart arrowed, liquid.



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Clouds the hedge banks.


Is high, a heaviness

And a stillness.

Slow air

Collecting summer,

A weight of green.

Pillow clouds

This light rests upon:

Grey and silver.


To remain a veil.

The dry earth,

Warm and pale.

Nodding roses,

Damask scented.

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Summer rain.
It can almost be forgiven:
Warm, green air.


Storm grey weight
Flowing grasses
Rabbit’s ears twitching.

Darker by degrees
Still air cooling
The first drops


Still life
Hidden sparrows
Slow rain


Slow rain
Hits every leaf
Syncopated greeting.


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We recently travelled to the Isle of Skye and the Western Highlands of Scotland. October in Scotland is glorious and the weather was good – not too overcast, not too sunny – so that we were able to see the land in many of its moods and atmospheres. I have selected a few images around the subject of water. I hope you enjoy the visual essay.

Taken from a cafe window in Portree, Skye, early morning looking east.


Fron Ord, Sleat, Isle of Skye, looking across Loch Eishort towards the Black Cuillins.


Clouds reflecting in the still waters of a loch an near Kilt Rock, Trotternish, Skye.



Looking across the sea to Harris from Duntulm, Trotternish, Skye.



Ripples on Loch Bay, Waternish, Skye.



Dawn sky over Kyleakin, Skye. The view from our bedroom window.



Sunrise over Kyleakin, Skye. Waves of light.



Early morning mists lift into the sky over Glen Garry.


Mists, shadows, trees, Glen Garry.



Still waters, slow moving mists. Loch Lochy.


Sunlight enters the woods. Mist rises from the waters. Loch Lochy.



Water-worn pools, Falls of Killin.



Waterside willows, Loch Venachar.



The sky below. Loch Venachar.



The Waters of the World. Loch Venachar.


This world

is the Otherworld:

Silver and gold

in turns.

The road flies

to the horizons

where our eyes linger,


for something


in front






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