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Daily Archives: April 13, 2016

Cornish Cheese, Sculpture and A Cloud/Poem

A group of us went to a small local cheese makers, Colliers Cornish Cheese, in Penryn, this morning and learned how to make soft cheese. It was a fascinating process which we were encouraged to join in and the end results, (Here’s one I made earlier!) were delicious. It was a delightful and informative morning with lovely Mother and son as instructors. Click on any photo for the caption and more detail.

As I was waiting this morning, on Islington Wharf where lots of small makers have space, I went past a sculptor’s studio and was very taken by the flowers in the window and love the snail.  They are made by Ronn Beattie. I like the reflection of the boat yard in the window glass too.

Made by Ronn Beattie

Made by Ronn Beattie

As I started to write this evening, a most unusual cloud formation started erupting from the horizon, as if someone were boiling an enormous kettle just out of sight

Cloud boiling up from the horizon

Cloud boiling up from the horizon

To go with that image, I have just found a poem by Henry David Thoreau, Low Anchored Cloud, which this cloud seems to be. I’m pleased with this new find.

 

Low-Anchored Cloud

Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain-head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream-drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of lakes and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men’s fields!

Henry David Thoreau

 

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Laurie Lee, Pittosporum and Spring Lunch 2

Laurie Lee has long been a favourite author and his poem April Rise came to mind this morning as we woke to the kind of misty morning that holds the promise of a beautiful day.

If ever I saw blessing in the air
I see it now in this still early day
Where lemon-green the vaporous morning drips
Wet sunlight on the powder of my eye.

Blown bubble-film of blue, the sky wraps round
Weeds of warm light whose every root and rod
Splutters with soapy green, and all the world
Sweats with the bead of summer in its bud.

If ever I heard blessing it is there
Where birds in trees that shoals and shadows are
Splash with their hidden wings and drops of sound
Break on my ears their crests of throbbing air.

Pure in the haze the emerald sun dilates,
The lips of sparrows milk the mossy stones,
While white as water by the lake a girl
Swims her green hand among the gathered swans.

Now, as the almond burns its smoking wick,
Dropping small flames to light the candled grass;
Now, as my low blood scales its second chance,
If ever world were blessed, now it is.

That promise was fulfilled and we spent a couple of hours in the garden this morning tidying up. I discovered tiny purple flowers on the Pittosporum which we missed last year but they must have been there as I discovered some very pretty seed pod in the hedge too.

Pittosporum flower

Pittosporum flower

Pittosporum seed pod

Pittosporum seed pod

We had our first outside lunch of the year in the Spring sunshine.

Avocado, mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and balsamic

Avocado, mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and balsamic

 

 
 

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