In the middle of the parkland at Pinetum Gardens was a glorious old tree in a winter landscape.
The poem below talks of rooks in a tree – here are Goldfinches in next-door’s tree.
What follows is a rather bleak piece but with some lovely images.
Winter Landscape, with Rooks – Sylvia Path
Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone,
plunges headlong into that black pond
where, absurd and out-of-season, a single swan
floats chaste as snow, taunting the clouded mind
which hungers to haul the white reflection down.
The austere sun descends above the fen,
an orange cyclops-eye, scorning to look
longer on this landscape of chagrin;
feathered dark in thought, I stalk like a rook,
brooding as the winter night comes on.
Last summer’s reeds are all engraved in ice
as is your image in my eye; dry frost
glazes the window of my hurt; what solace
can be struck from rock to make heart’s waste
grow green again? Who’d walk in this bleak place?
January 24, 2018 at 12:47 pm
We had a huge downpour for a short while last night. Today the breeze is fresh and the garden is smiling.
And the temp is around 22.
Love the first image.
January 25, 2018 at 3:19 pm
Perfect temperature! Bart Simpson or dog with tongue hanging out? Both have been seen! 🙂
January 22, 2018 at 9:06 am
I agree, Sally, Roll on Spring. At least, looking in the garden between the showers, I see the daffodils emerging, and we have many primroses and crocuses shining bright!
January 22, 2018 at 9:23 am
It’s the same in our garden and very heartening it is too! 🙂
January 21, 2018 at 9:01 pm
Our temps have temporarily rebounded into “Spring” ~> YAY!