Winds batter the shore;
gulls, ever my companions.
Sand between my toes
Copyright Francis 2021
Haiku #14
Category: weather
Haiku: ‘Tuesday Dank’
Weather matching moods
Analogous depression
Dankness wall to wall
Haiku: ‘Perspectives on Rain’
Rain seals the darkness
Roosting birds watch silently
Humans mourn the day
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Nearly 17 Degrees Overnight Temperature in Scotland!
In a time where we would appear to be experiencing ever more unusual weather and strange atmospheric phenomena, this story grabbed my attention more than others.
I have to confess I have never heard of the ‘foehn effect’, nor do I admit to understanding it having now digested the information, yet when temperatures in northern Scotland briefly reach nearly 17 degrees C overnight, it makes you pause over your morning coffee. And this at a time of year when the average overnight temperature is around freezing point.
My only ‘experience’ of such unusually warm winter weather was when I was a baby, according to my late mother.
Apparently, it was warm enough one dark January evening for her to sit by the riverside in her short sleeves whilst watching me in a pram. Even if such memories did distort the truth over time, I saw no reason to disbelieve her.
copyright Francis Barker 2019
Haiku: Rain
Waiting for the rain,
don’t go out there, just in case
Once outside, it rains
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019
*If you would like a personal astrology report, please contact me at: leoftanner@gmail.com for further details.
Poem: At Cromer
When I look down toward the beach,
the distant pier seems to stride
forward from the shining sea.
I like to look beyond,
to the bands of turquoise and blue,
an ocean painted in bold,
abandoned strokes.
Why are we drawn to the waves?
Those elemental rhythms,
sounds and colours
of a primary world,
where sparse pointillist spots
busy themselves on
yellow-ochre sands.
Some days the morning
unfolds through mists,
groynes spacing out
the distances along the strand,
until a final fade-out,
well before the sea
can meet the sky.
Overhead, pterodactyl shapes
patrol against fresh patches
of blue. As I approach,
the blurred semblances
of buildings appear, rectangles
feathered violet or grey,
as if stepping off the cliff.
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019, 2011
Poem: The Painter
Climbing the dune,
wind heavy in our faces.
We squint (or do we smile?),
our laughs and quips
diffuse in the air.
Young legs carry you
ahead to the summit,
where tufts of green cling
to an existence. Then you’re
a sudden lithe silhouette
against a racing sky.
I revel in your victory;
your gentle hand hauls me
up close to ocean eyes,
an elfin smile, teeth
pristine like breakers
on the distant, crashing
shore, that white noise
filling our ears.
To look into you
is to look as men
have done for centuries.
Unchanging heart,
you’re the pearl left
nestling in filth.
So take a look –
can anyone steal time?
An hour here or there,
we leave our footprints,
no foothold anywhere.
I am the painter of this shore –
you are the model.
Again and again,
we return to wrestle
in familiar hues;
deep alizarin crimson,
yellow ochre, phthalo blue,
making it real. Stay in this
moment, we bless and bless.
It has to be you.
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019 and 2011
Haiku: Gatekeeper 3
All turned on its head
Our servants rule over us
At last the worm turns?
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019
The Elemental North Norfolk Coast
No excuses, just thought I’d share again a couple of my past impressions of one of my favourite places.
If I ever got serious about oil painting and painting in general again, I think I would have to visit more places abroad. Like the south of France where the light is glorious, so I am told!
Of course North Norfolk’s geographical position is almost unique in England, which gives it its particularly quality of light, strong blues; whereas in the Mediterranean, for example, the brighter colours predominate.
Au Revoir Summer?
Summer doesn’t officially begin until June 1, or June 21 with the Summer Solstice, according to some.
But a few warm days in early May lulls you into that typical false sense of security, leaves you thinking summer may have come early.
Then, of course, the heavens opened and May returned to its usual, not entirely unexpected mixed bag of meteorological mayhem.
And that’s just it, the downpour reminded me of many previous Mays, and by all accounts the temperatures will be almost back down to single figures by the weekend. This is a normal May.
Great.
That’s why I said ‘Au Revoir’ at the start. So, like the French might optimistically put it, until we meet again, dear summer…
Here’s hoping.
© copyright words and images rp
