Friday, July 10, 2009

Weather


The day started bright and sparkling and for winter a relatively mild 11C but by midday rain began falling and the temperature dived to 5C. This explains the moody grey look of many of the photos. I do hope you appreciate that I had to emerge from a nice warm car in the chilly rain to get these shots ... in the rain it looks like English countryside.

Musing:
Weathers by Thomas Hardy
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,'
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do

3 comments:

  1. Ha, Joan Elizabeth, I do appreciate that very much!! I hate this kind of weather ... it looks exactly like around here in Germany at the moment - and we have summer ... we should have sun and 30 °C and blue skies and instead we have 16 °C and rain and clouds and and and .. did I say that I am the one who could rant without end about bad weather? Duh.

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  2. Somehow I missed this post.

    I love little cricks like this that appear and disappear within the length of a couple of paddocks.

    I am currently researching a post for Plumbing that has me trying to recreate the original landscape of Dawes Point in my mindseye. This is what I see here: landscape that Sydney used to be but which now has been carved out of all recognition.

    This photograph somehow calms me ...and yes thank you for braving the weather!

    That Hardy could weave words couldnt he. And some of them are lost to us now ... I love the rural England idyllic stuff of the 19th century ...

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  3. When I saw how these photos came out I knew I was going to be able to undulge in a feast of rural English poetry .. old'uns but good'uns.

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