Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
See also my Woodrat photoblog and my Flickr account.
I’m currently camping in Scotland, whence the lack of new blog posts. In the meantime, here’s a photo of some sea kale on a pebbly beach on the south coast of England, which I visited briefly eight days ago. The new leaves were surprisingly mild and tasty raw. Continue reading “Sea Kale”
You can learn a lot about a country by the signs people put up. Here are a few signs and other public messages that struck me for one reason or another. Continue reading “Signs of Britain”
At the end of our four-day weekend in Yorkshire, we found ourselves peering through telephoto and zoom lenses at the gargoyles high on the walls of York Minster.
Continue reading “Wild Yorkshire”
In London, every day is a red letter day, and the sky is rarely anything but white.
Continue reading “In London”
Kensal Green Cemetery is, as previously discussed, a tad overgrown in parts. But it turns out that’s all part of the plan. The wooded parts feature some truly magnificent trees, including the most thickly ivied tree I’ve ever seen (a sweet gum, I think). Continue reading “Kensal Green Cemetery: returning to nature”
Just down the road from where I’m staying in north London, the Kensal Green Cemetery houses the mortal remains of many eminent Victorians. Like Highgate Cemetery, which I visited in 2011, it’s one of the “magnificent seven” garden-style cemeteries in London. And just as at Highgate, the groundskeepers’ gardening style is permissive in the extreme, favoring unpruned trees and shrubs and rampant ivy. Continue reading “Kensal Green Cemetery: being dead in style”
Is there any message that can’t be improved by the addition of the humble smiley?
Yes. Yes, I think there may be. Continue reading “Elemental”
The funny thing about tourism is that designating certain areas as worthy of the foreigner’s inquisitive gaze immediately calls their authenticity into question, so that a tourist in search of — for example — the Real London must steer clear of the guide books and rely instead upon the idiosyncratic recommendations of Real Londoners. Continue reading “London off the beaten path”
Mom wanted to go one way, the fawn wanted to go another. Continue reading “When life imitates Disney, it’s time to start packing”
The fever & the cold
are odd bedfellows.
Even goldfinches turn down the heat
during their autumn molt.
I lie fallow, letting bloom
a virus that slipped in
under cover of affection
& now withers in the ditch.