What a week! Or perhaps 10 days.
The personal, everyday, seasonal. Interwoven with unique moments of (inter)national and historic gravitas, prompts this very brief post’s personal jottings, before the memories fade.
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A Rural View
Sheep shorn. Votes cast. Counting begun. Forecasts made. Pound soars. Sleep.
New day. Brexit bombshell. Cameron abdicates. Markets crash. Pound slumps.
Divided nation. Media meltdown. Hysterical gloom. National crisis.
Were we deranged?
Metropolitan despair? Rural relief?
England poleaxed Icelandically.
Wales dragonised Belgium.
Corbyn cabinet capitulated.
Boris bandwagon battered.
May, Eagle. Rise? Fox and Crab.
Eadsom? Gone or Gove?
A new political Farrage.
Frightening.
Barrage.
We’re here. Because we’re here.
100 years on.
From July 1st.
On the Somme.
Not in Lille.
Young men delirious,
Or dead.
Right place,
Wrong time.
Excitement as a second orchid
Blooms. And is spotted.
Seen. Loved, up here in Wales,
On this green no-man’s hill.
The peat fuelled purple field fades
Velvet, is bent and Tufted hair mists fog.
Painterly plant patinas. Sensuously swaying. Breezily bright.
The Himalayan Musk bleeds,
Pale skeletal white.
Has history been made?
Have minds gone mad?
Will we remember?
Or is this too, a Towton time?
Murderous mayhem. Long in the forgetting,
With future distant centuries’ regrets.
The Ivy-leaved flowers bells ring blue,
The pimpernel’s blush palest bog rose-pink,
Sneak into bloom amidst sponge-soggy moss,
Sedate Valerian’s pollened showers drift down,
Spearwort’s long-stemmed splendours melt
With Tormentil’s bright buttery blooms, while
Banded bumbles buzz.
The shepherd hears the bleating lamb,
Incongruous in the valley’s silent shroud,
Filled late with fair June’s sun and warmth.
The frightened head is pushed, ears pulled,
From pig’s square netted snare, stretched tight,
And wired for sound.
Slowly, softly, safely now.
Sunday,
Pulses,
Peace.
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We’re here, because we’re here link, click here.
Towton time, click here.
thegardenimpressionists 
Lovely post and beautiful photos.
Thanks very much BW. Glad you enjoyed a change from normality???
Best wishes
Julian
The best comment on the whole affair so far.
Thanks for the comment TP …it’s been such a bizarre few days, hasn’t it? And so I thought a different tack to my normal verbosity was appropriate. Glad you appreciated it,
best wishes
Julian
I enjoyed that but how did you get those lovely gauzy images of the flowers? Amelia
Thanks Amelia, simply by leaving the flowers floating in a bowl of water; they gradually sank and decayed over the last week – quite appropriate for the blog theme I thought. Best wishes Julian
Amazing that you spotted the photo opportunity! I would have heaved them out. Ah, I think you mean you took the photograph before they decayed – sorry very slow today 🙂
Hello again Amelia. I did leave them in over days…they gradually fade and become skeletal …different flowers behave differently, but often it produces striking washed out results. I did tweak a couple of the resulting images, as well, best wishes
Julian
Thanks for the explanation, I loved the hazy feeling of the photographs.
Very impressive – you’ve captured the whole business! Love the misty flowers.
Thanks Marianne, good job I posted it on Sunday – the bit about is already out of date! Best wishes Julian
This is a brilliant summation of a crazy time!
Only time will tell if it was the right thing to do … and let’s hope they stop politicking and get on with running the country not their careers!
Thanks Noeline – already it seems very out of date…
But the sheep are much happier now, than when I wrote it – I think the midges and other biting flies have diminished in numbers with cooler weather – pity the cool weather isn’t influencing the politicos!
Best wishes
Julian