Godrevy in the early evening is always beautiful.
Surfers were beginning to arrive.
The farmer in the back field has been mowing and baling and today brought the stacks to put in the shed. I love the autumn colours in this shot.
Tractor on the move
Checking on the names for the stooks or bales or stacks or bundles, I came across this information which made me smile.
It is so good to come home! We have been in the big city for the last few days – so to come home to fresh air, peace and quiet and the beauty of Cornwall is quite something. We enjoyed our adventures but it is so good to come home. Please enjoy the gallery below giving you a taste of Godrevy and the sea.
I was in Hayle this morning and managed this time to find a parking spot to get the photo I’ve been trying to take for ever! There are half a dozen of these along the way.
I love these! Lovely old stone bridge to the mid left
I drove to Godrevy after my appointment in Hayle. It was a grey day but the beach still looked amazing.
Gwithian
What a lovely chirpy poem this is!
Spring (Again) – Michael Ryan
The birds were louder this morning,
raucous, oblivious, tweeting their teensy bird-brains out.
It scared me, until I remembered it’s Spring.
How do they know it? A stupid question.
Thank you, birdies. I had forgotten how promise feels.
Godrevy Island
Gwithian Beach
A man, his dogs and their reflections
Another gloriously bright and bitter Autumn day so a beach walk called.
Beach at Godrevy
The patterns in the sand always please me.
Concave or convex?
The rock formations are beautiful.
Swirling rock formations like taffy
Our lovely friends who keep chickens keep us supplied with beautiful fresh eggs. These came with a feather!
Very fresh eggs
Our walk today took us along the cliffs to Mutton Cove where seals hang out.
Seals at Mutton Cove
In the car park was a lovely old VW Beetle, much older than my fifteen year old beauty, and immaculately kept.
An old VW Beetle
Sitting reading in the garden this afternoon, I noticed a red petal among the sapphire blue of the Agapanthus.It’s a stray blossom from the Crocosmia called Lucifer.
Lovely contrast
Sunset highlighted the shapes of the grasses at Godrevy this evening.
Grasses against the sunset
We love this series of YouTube videos, Playing for Change, Songs around the World. It is such a delight to see so many musicians from all over the world playing the same piece with such joy. I hope you enjoy it too.
I’ve been sorting through my fabric stash for stuff that I can put into the sewing box for LiveWire 3. I think the felt will be the best for her, both bright and easy to sew.
Felt colours for T
As I am writing this post, an Edward Thomas poem has been read on the news with a comment that the thaw is now happening over most of the UK. About time for some further North, where there have even been airdrops of essential foodstuffs in Cumbria, to villages cut off for 5 days.
Thaw by Edward Thomas
Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed
And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flower of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.
Delightful isn’t it, the thought that the rooks are observing the coming of Spring which we, as yet, can’t always see.
Here is another shot of Godrevy taken a couple of days ago when the last shreds of snow were still to thaw.
Thawing snow at Godrevy
After four freezing snow and wind-filled days, first there was rain to melt most of the snow and then glorious and truly warm sunshine so off we went for a walk along the coast at Godrevy. It was a gloriously peaceful walk given the past four rather fraught days.
Leftover snow and the Godrevy lighthouse
Haematopus ostralegus, Oyster catchers on a rock with Gulls who have just landed
From Godrevy across to St Ives in warm winter sun
Seal – look at his whiskers!
We met a beautiful dog who was having a wonderful time dashing about but who stopped and posed for us when asked by his owner!
Jake, who is blind
Some Crocuses have popped up on the opposite side of the garden from our Suffragette garden which is a pleasant surprise.
Purple and white among the green
It has been a bitterly cold and beautifully bright day so we headed out to see the sunset.
Sunset over St Ives from Godrevy
A new poem came my way a couple of days ago and I share it here – Wait by Galway Kinnell. The lines that drew me to it especially were those about pain. Wait long enough and everything will become interesting again.
Wait – Galway Kinnell
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become interesting.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again;
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. The desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don’t go too early.
You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a little and listen:
music of hair,
music of pain,
music of looms weaving our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
Readers who follow these posts will know that ten days ago I had a steroid injection in both ankles to, hopefully, dissipate the pain therein. For four days I walked on sunshine. Now, things are somewhat better but not the bliss I first experienced, sadly.
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