Sunday 3 May 2020

On Becoming a Hermit, Sort of ... Day 48

Day 48
(Sunday, 3rd May 2020)

I'm taking the weekend off again, but thought I'd record the fact we went for a good walk, for the first time in a few days, up the lane and onto Whitwell Moor. Very pleasant and not too crowded, despite being a Sunday.

Long Lane by Whitwell Moor
Whitwell Moor

Always refreshing of the spirit. The air is crisp, clean and fresh and here to give it its first exposure in public, is a poem about the seasons ...

Winter Song

A diaphanous veil of mist has settled 
sensuously in the valley below.
The upper edge of a jigsaw wall,
its silhouetted frame that lay 
beneath a cloud streaked blue, was
stark and sharp as the frozen chill 
of air that nipped the ears, and
brought a tear to a rose red nose.

Under foot, a thin and brittle crust,
a chocolate crisp contained inside
a creamy, sweet and treacly core,
challenging the boots that tread, 
questioning their proof against a
threat of insidious infiltration, thence
a haunting memory of trench foot,
the spectre of necrotic consequence.

Trees, undressed and still as death,
conserve what little life remains
their fingers, skeletal signposts,
reach patiently for their renewal,
impossible as it may seem to be,
moist and cold, but like a phoenix, 
their fertile ashes hoping for a 
chance to come again one day.
Once more, the late Spring’s vivid scenes
of sporting courts and verdant greens.
Once more, the early call of song,
the golden warmth of a rising sun 
Once more, the vibrant purple haze
of August’s bounteous flowering days.
Once more October’s golden crown. 

The moorland heather fading brown.

© 2019 John Anstie
All rights reserved


Clemency Burton-Hill's "Year of Wonder" gives us the following music for your weekend ...

Saturday: "Mother of God, Here I Stand" from the Veil of The Temple by John Tavener (1944-2013). Here again are my favourite octet, Voces8 performing this sublimely and beautifully.

Sunday: "Piano Trio in E flat major, K.498 ('Kegelstatt') 3: Rondo - Allegretto by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. It always astonishes me that a man could produce such a prodigious quantity of enduring music by the time he was a mere 35 years old.!

However you may be affected by anything I've written here, do let me know by leaving a comment below or, if you prefer not to, talk to a loved one, a friend or someone you trust.

1 comment:

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