Memories of yesterday stay hard on the heels of today. The future, a dream, an impatient master for those chasing tomorrow to make it their today, leaving behind those patiently waiting for circumstance to favour a moment, who live for today and the freedom of a dream accomplished, willing to share that secret with another.
The seasons of life have taught me much about waiting for the right moment, unhurried by time.
It's said that time waits for no one, but who's to say that time is in a hurry. The beauty of a wild spring flower is the result of a great many things coming together at the right time. It won't be hurried but it is made more perfect by the wait. I'll settle for that!
26th Mar 2015, 16:27
My rescued friend of a few days back making his way through the thinning ice to say hello and show off his snowball balancing prowess.
8th Feb 2015, 19:51
With the promise of Jupiter bright on the eastern horizon the Sun competes with the approaching shade of evening darkness, while, to the west, it casts the last illusion of warmth as our journeying planet turns the northern hemisphere to greet a fellow of our solar system.
8th Feb 2015, 19:22
The tell tale crunch of ice as I shut the boat down in the early hours of the morning, the night sky achingly beautiful, clear to infinity, heralded the start of a another cold spell forecast for the next few days. Pleasantly tired I hit the sack and slipped into a deep dream laden world of endless sun and blue sky, of earthbound and heavenly horizons.
This morning I woke early and, looking out, saw a young swan that has stayed with us for some days now, trapped in the ice, barely able to move. So, quickly, I exchanged the cosy warmth of the cabin for the nose-numbing air yet to rise under a cloud hindered tepid sun.
Although out in the sticks with rarely a passing soul, my haste was to free the youngster before it was intimidated by a predatory dog or passer by that might cause it to injure itself trying to flee. There was also the possibility the ice might thicken further.
Anyhow, after some judicious breaking of ice with an arms length extended barge pole, the young swan, unruffled by my attack on the ice, was free and paddled to the stern of the boat, hemmed in now by his own private ice pond. Gunner sat watching, head cocked to one side, tail sweeping the towpath, waiting. He gave the impression of just biding his time, entertained by my antics, until I was reminded to give him my fullest attention and take him for his early morning constitutional. I smiled.
Ok, Gun's, I'm all yours, let's go fella!
2nd Feb 2015, 13:10