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Lockdown 3 (Day 17) In Sunshine
My apartment faces south, but is overshadowed by the flats built over the atrium at the front and on its east side. This means no morning light reaches me directly and I have to pull the curtain across to assess the weather. Today the sunlight was blasting down King Street. I just had to leap →
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Lockdown 3 (Day 16) Behind the Mask
Out briefly today in sunshine. I forgot my gloves, but was surprised by the mildness of the air. People maintaining good distances from each other; joggers running well wide of pedestrians; people stepping back to let others pass. There is no rush when people are on foot. A taxi driver tries to squeeze past me →
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On Losing (22)
Wensum overflows Where water and mud combine Definition blurs ~ CLP 28/12/2020 →
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On Numbers (43)
Between rain and dusk Over the hills and back again Pedalling fury! ~ n.b. Sometimes you just get lucky and the weather breaks fall perfectly. Taking advantage of this, my cycling buddy and I sped around 43 km of Norfolk countryside today in a couple of hours. It was an almost total escape from some →
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On the Broads
Sugar refinery Unashamedly ugly Birds seem more reserved . n.b. Groups of bird watchers wander abroad armed with binoculars, telescopes, cameras with telephoto lens extensions, all studiously seeking out the latest over-wintering migrants amongst the reeds and ponds of the Norfolk Broads. Meanwhile the sugar beet refinery, run by British Sugar, continues to churn out →
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On Pleasure
It’s just gone midday After rapid 50k Pint of noon Sun, please! ~ CLP 10/09/2020 →
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On Pleasure vii
Weary travellers Take overdue refreshment. Sun turns sky silver n.b. Surlingham Ferry. The Ferry House hove into view, somehow knowing a drinks break was needed after 4 hours of an impromptu cycle ride. Interesting cloud formations and sunset too. CLP 06/09/2020 →
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On Waking
Locked in combat Fitful thoughts leave us flailing Sleep slays our demons ~ n.b. This carving in Cley-next-the-sea is un-dated. It may be from the C18th, or possibly older, or more recent. It amuses me that St. George appears to be asleep on his dopey steed, whilst despatching the dragon. A good kip can see →
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Smokin’
~ The evening the supermarket burnt down Four miles away in the town up the road Its smoke funnelled out to the coast Streamed high across the marsh Curled beneath a front pushing from the west Where the lofty plume lost height over the cool sea Shadowed the sunset and emerging night Carrying smells of →
Journey of Words 