what a come back

the bbc radio five live sports presenter just announced that "blake" would be singing jerusalem before the start of this afternoon's rugby match at twickenham

shakespeare's seventy-third sonnet

That time of year thou may’st in me behold




When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang




Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,




Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.



















In me thou see'st the twilight of such day




As after sunset fadeth in the west;




Which by and by black night doth take away,




Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,



That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,



As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,



Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,


To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.

who could resist ...

... a couple of ginger tarts from midhurst ?

there are a great many lumps of rusty iron littering the shingle beneath the pier at southsea

i'm mandy, fly me

... a few months later, in April, mardecortesbaja showed this nice picture by stevan dohanos ...

crushed by a tree at walberton in 1767

an late afternoon stroll on the south bank

i'd say there was a gratuitous lack of gear ... and where's the tackle ?

dive-thru macdonalds

on southsea beach ... look on ye mighty and despair

sunbeams

morning has broken ... elsewhere

http://www.yosemite.org/vryos/TurtlebackCam.htm

one of the joys of the internet thingy is that, just as the sun is about to set in putney, you can watch the dawn eight hours away in yosemite valley

testing, testing, testing .... olympus have repaired my camera ... i'm overwhelmed with happiness ... and gratitude

a bracing promenade ... but i'll stay in my nice warm cab

unkommon kritturs

seen near the arundel estate

maybe ...

http://www.thebeefsite.com/breeds/beef/61/english-longhorn/overview

bird talk

As I drove in to Ockenden Manor at Cuckfield on a dark day there was a commotion of a dozen blackbirds around the lovely high-walled lawn. They had gathered to harass a stranger, but seemed rather hesitant in the face of his/her own ebullient aggression. The only difference between them and him/her was colour … instead of being feathered purely in black, he/she was spectacularly piebald. I’d never seen a pied blackbird and was first startled and then enchanted. Sadly, my camera is away for repairs and I can only show you these vague images captured through a smaller lens … but you get the picture.

last saturday morning on clapham common ... there is an appeal for funds for tree planting

some stars, some stripes, chez micawber

this morning i was standing rarther listlessly at the kitchen sink trying to conjure up a suitably motivational role-model ...