pink and purple riding hood
busy in the mist
Come away with the raggle taggle gypsy-o
Yellow is an optimistic colour for me. It means one thing in particular – SPRING, my second favourite time of the year. Here in the northern hemisphere we are just two days from the winter solstice, a day that fills me with joy. While I know that we have several months of cold, wet weather, I am reassured that each day will be longer by a barely perceptible minute and in a month’s time the sun will rise before I walk to work. I know that one day in February I will stop in my tracks, t smile at a primrose smiling back at me, its sunny yellow heart blowing a kiss.
Before long, yellow signs will be everywhere. “There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” – Anais Nin
The year’s at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in his Heaven— All’s right with the world!
Robert Browning
Before we know it, the temperature will rise a few degrees and my favourite spring flowers will take on more passionate yellow hues. The equinox will insist on equality, and I, well I will leave off my gloves, happy that winter has departed.
Oh, to be in England
Now that April’s there
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England – now!
Robert Browning
This post is in response to the Weekly Photo Challenge, where Krista throws out a yellow curve ball as a change form the festive colours lots of us are surrounded by. You can join in here,
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/yellow/
me, I’ll just wait for spring and its glorious golden yellows!
This afternoon I went to Killerton with my family and had a lovely walk in bright sunshine – which was far from ideal for photos. We did find this robin turning on the charm and posing for me!



And then William and Louisa agreed to share their raisins, so my son tempted Mr Robin by putting some on a branch.




effervescent fizz
of the salt stinging ocean
winter or summer
giving or taking away
our lives daily leftovers

. . . it’s still autumn here in the gentle south west of England, so you wont’ find any snow flakes yet.
At the weekend, I went strolling through the graveyard kicking at the leaves.

Looking skywards towards russet, greengold and naked tree tops
Beech leaves were at my feet

Oak was at eye and ankle level


I turned back the way I came and this little beauty was along the path

and as if there wasn’t already enough magic

an extra gift of treasure.
This is my first go at a Monday walk for Jo, find her here in Hartlepool,
http://restlessjo.wordpress.com/2014/12/01/jos-monday-walk-the-marina/
***It seems that we can’t choose when the snow falls on WordPress this year!***
In October 1987, Michael Fish a now infamous BBC weather presenter, told the UK not to worry, there wouldn’t be a hurricane, but there would be some strong winds further south in France and Spain. In the event, winds of up to 115mph caused £1 billion of damage and 15 lives were lost.
In my city, many trees came down including a number in Heavitree Park. When I was five years old, my daily walk to and from school took me through the park and I remember those huge, majestic trees standing guard over the gentle sloping landscape gardens. Each September I’d collect conkers from under the horse chestnuts and watch the squirrels collecting nuts for their winter larders. You can imagine how upset I was all those years later when I walked Jassy, my golden retriever through the park, a few days after the hurricane that wasn’t going to happen.

If you look closely you can see the stump of one of the old trees, see how big it was?


The park has never been quite the same for me, but I can walk there without tears now. Thankfully, a few of the old trees, including these above, survived that dreadful night.
A couple of years later the council planted a small grove of birch, carefully fenced off to protect them at first. They have now grown to maturity and are a lovely sight. So yesterday I walked Dido and Daisy, the border terriers early in the morning, before the November fog had cleared. They chased the squirrels – futilely of course, and I only had my phone camera but I had to share the young trees with you.
I hope they never have to stand up to a hurricane.