Splosh (and stuff)

I've had a couple of busy days in the familial field so apologies for not being around much. Normal service should resume as soon as I get some decent sleep.

Diamonds on my windshield

This morning, trying to find something positive in yet another rainy day...




And, well, although I suppose this gentleman is not anybody's cup of tea I simply have to add this (not the best version but...)

	Tom Waits - 04 - Diamonds on My Windshield
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

...

Not in the mood for words tonight so you're getting some flowers instead. I need some colour after another utterly dismal day with that most depressing grey sky and neverending rain.

Three Word Thursday #11

Apart from a few curios events Timmy was a normal boy, doing what most nine-year-olds do: go to school and play, do his homework and help mum, and in the evenings he would close himself in his room, listening to music and reading all kinds of stuff. The parchments ceased to interest him after what had happened with the potion. They were written in antediluvian language which was very difficult to understand so he left them in their hiding place for the time being. He also vaguely remembered the dream but wasn't sure what to make of it. He considered discussing it with Billy, his bestest buddy, but couldn't make himself bring up the subject.

One day, after school, the boys lingered in the yard, talking about the latest news. They were upset and a little saddened as their history teacher had just announced she would be leaving school in a few days. She hadn't provided any further information but confirmed her departure was ineluctable. When one of the boys asked if she was going to have a baby, she smiled mysteriously but refused to comment. The boys liked her classes as her lectures were interesting and not at all prolix, and she was able to animate them so they acquired the knowledge with ease and were eager to learn more. They wondered what the replacement teacher would be like.

A nod to Poetic Asides and some bragging (sorry)

No, I have no intention of joining the Poem A Day challenge but I just thought I'd share with you a haiku because I don't think I have posted it anywhere in the webs before. Well, I did submit it on-line to a haiku contest in Japan (Kusamakura) in 2005 when I was a complete novice in the art of haiku. And, imagine my surprise when in the late autumn that year I received a letter from Japan notifying me that my haiku had won second prize (as one of the 8 selected) in the contest, thus earning a certificate and 5000 yen (I still keep the banknote).

Here it is:

ripening wheat
through fast moving wipers
a rainbow

The imagery is a reflection of what I actually experienced one late afternoon driving home from a tournament of boules. I think I would have written the haiku differently today but it likely wouldn't impress the Japanese judges. But who knows?

Will you walk into my parlour?

Nature's ways may not always be pretty although there is a certain beauty in death also, as the photo above demonstrates. And there are predators just as fierce in the micro world as there are on the main stage.

A crab spider doesn't make webs but lurks hidden in a blossom instead for an unexpected passer by - usually a gnat, a fly, a bee or another flying insect. It strikes with lightning speed and injects the venom, paralysing the victim which becomes the spider's lunch before realising what hit it.

April vagaries

The unpredictable April weather makes it difficult to determine the destination for a trip.
Today we took a route different from the ordinary and ended up on a hill which, allegedly, is a place with powerful energy. An ancient shrine used to stand on top, as the word has it, but, as in so many other cases, a catholic church was built on its groundings. As we arrived, the sky had been closing and a cold breeze blowed across the slopes. There were signs of showers in the vicinity. Still, I climbed toward the top of the hill, admiring the flowers and greening trees as I went. A few gnats were dipping into dandelions, a bumblebee hummed around the dog violets. But as I approached the summit, I was stunned by the sight. A number of swallowtail butterflies flitted around the top, swirling, fluttering, pausing on the blossoms, then flitting away. They were all camera shy, though, and wouldn't let me take a decent photo. Then I passed between the church and the small stone wall surrounding it. And there, on the gravel, was another butterfly, flapping its wings but not moving anywhere. As I approached, the camera at the ready, it paused and let me take a few photos. Then I tried to move it from the ground onto the wall and it still didn't fly away. I was beginning to fear something was wrong with it but it looked perfectly formed without any visible injuries. It let me take another set of photos on the wall. I couldn't help but thank it and wish it well, and as soon as I did so in my mind, it lifted off the wall and fluttered into the sky. And meanwhile, the rain had moved to other places.