the fifteenth late friday night eclectic buffet

friday night and the burgeoning heap of ideas and interests and curiousities that is the golden fish research department has prepared its eclectic buffet for immediate release.

hey, props to my mate sid smith living up at whitley bay on the northeast coast of england. sid the official biographer of robert fripp throws his self, his experience of his family, and his vast and rich knowledge of music up onto his blog (see the link down the right-hand side of this blog). i nipped over the other day to see what sid’s up to and into and lo and behold a drop-dead-gorgeous tune was waiting there and with no further ado, i’ll link you here to gillian welch and david rawlings:


meanwhile outside in the returning late spring warmth . . . as my gardens slowly reemerge from their wintry prison and i find the tiny surprises - the little bulbs that i planted with my children last year that i (and they) had completely forgotten about - i am brought to a deeper gratitude for the return of the warmer months and then also for the amazing beauty of nature itself.

i have read many articles and bits and pieces of gardening books about why and even how plants create the colours they do in their stems and leaves and flowers, but i am still amazed when i see a little yellow petal which upon closer inspection reveals shades of yellow and speckles of other colours. it is so simple and yet such an extraordinary thing for a plant to have taken the soil, the air, the water, and the sun and to have formed this admixture into something so beautiful and magical. and that is what it is still to me - magic. here are a few little examples around my garden . . .

hides the sun
a dense fog in the morning:
waning winter

r.k. singh

the garden flew round with the angel
the angel flew round with the clouds
and the clouds flew round and the clouds flew round
and the clouds flew round with the clouds

wallace stevens

here's the line between winter and summer as seen on the surface of our swimming pool

the wind sings welcome

carl sandburg the wind sings welcome in early spring

(for paula) the grip of the ice is gone now.
the silvers chase purple.
the purples tag silver.
they let out their runners
here where summer says to the lilies:
“wish and be wistful,
circle this wind-hunted, wind-sung water.”

come along always, come along now.
you for me, kiss me, pull me by the ear.
push me along with the wind push.
sing like the whinnying wind.
sing like the hustling obstreperous wind.

have you ever seen deeper purple …
this in my wild wind fingers?
could you have more fun with a pony or a goat?
have you seen such flicking heels before,
silver jig heels on the purple sky rim?
come along always, come along now

here are three images i took at the side of my house where i have some limestone chunks, seen here with a beautiful piece of ice.
click on each image to make it bigger.