Cat life

 Just parking this here. I had it on Facebook but I’m not sure I saved it anywhere else. It happened when E was at my house, drawing. She decided (completely her own idea) to draw my toy cat. She was four at the time. I thought it a very observant study. 

Harvest

'When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth.'     Mary Oliver

When life (or a friend, in my case) gives you cooking apples, fresh and tart from the tree, go and look for blackberries. Well, that's what I decided to do anyway. In truth, blackberries seem few this year, I suppose as a result of the dry weather. Or maybe I just wasn't looking in the right places. Those I found were quite small but still sweet-tasting. I collected a little bag full. Once the apples were chopped and stewed, I added the blackberries, cooking them enough to release their purple juice but not lose their shape. The concoction needed a sprinkling of sugar to satisfy my sweet tooth but, oh, it was tasty. 

Perhaps we all have a latent hunter-gatherer still within us. Once I got into the swing of it - and managing to avoid the sharp prickles of the brambles - it was a pleasurable half hour or so. There is something satisfying about getting close to mother earth and her bounty. I'm not a gardener at all, but I'm sure it must be very pleasing to harvest your own home-grown crops. 

And yes, I did 'cram the black honey of summer into my mouth' as well as into the bag. You can't return from a blackberrying expedition without juice-stained fingers and a purple tongue! 

Pebbles

Just a little playing with an image of my pebble collection. I can't truly say why I have a pebble collection... They are stones I've picked up over the years on beaches and brought home (and yes, I know you're not really supposed to do that!) Neatly laid out on a shelf in the sitting room, the hoard is perhaps one of my favourite possessions. There is something about the smoothness of them, their diversity of colour, shape, texture, the way they fit in one's palm - and yet all within relationship to each other. I like the grading from largest to smallest. 

I know my grandgirls appreciate them, especially M. In fact, there is a poignant little story to tell here... Once when the family came over, her father produced the tiny, rounded, orange pebble from his pocket and placed it at the end of the line, saying he'd been carrying it around for ages. It fitted and looked at home there so it was left. The next time the grandgirls came, that very pebble went missing. As they were leaving, I exclaimed about it (without really thinking it through!) M bent down behind the door and then produced it, saying: 'Is this it?' So we replaced it in the line. It was only after they'd gone that I realised the likely truth: that M herself must at one time have found it (she's the kind of child that does amass pockets full of treasures) and she must have given it to her daddy to look after. Perhaps she then forgot about it. Anyway, seeing it on my shelf must have reminded her that it was her treasure, so she reclaimed it, but obviously felt a little guilty, hence the 'finding it' again when I noticed its disappearance. I felt bad afterwards for not thinking ahead, and just keeping quiet when it disappeared from the line-up. I should have realised! But, sweet girl, I do love it and treasure it, all the more so because of that incident. And one day you can claim all of them for your own collection, knowing they were precious to me. They are, as precious as the finest jewels. 

Perhaps we're all a little odd! 

There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion 

That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble 

Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, 

Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Roundness

A good day out on a camera club outing to Weston Hall near Otley. It was well attended and convivial, though inevitably having ten folks all jostling for photos made it a little tight in some areas. The hall and church were interesting but what I most enjoyed were the varied and somewhat eccentric objects and collections scattered around the buildings and gardens. I’m not even sure what this is, just leaning against a wall, but I really like it. Why? The colours and tones; the mottling and shading of the pan; the smooth roundness contrasting with the rough stone and tufty grass; that little fern providing a counterweight; the stick, puddled water and that jade mark somehow providing an artistic focal point. It comes together as a harmonious whole and yet there’s something rather unexpected about it too. For me, it’s a little bit of visual poetry. Very satisfying.