Little Fluffy Clouds

Sometimes, when I stare at the sky, the clouds seem more active than normal. These are very fluffy. Is there a name for this type of cloud formation?

Optical Illusion

When I discovered this photograph, I couldn't work it out. First, I thought my cat Tangwyn was climbing some snow-covered steps. Then I thought she must be descending the steps. I am still not sure - what do you reckon?

Who Killed Cock-Robin?

I felt very, very sad when I discovered a dead robin in the undergrowth. There was, however, a certain beauty in its stillness and I was moved to take a post mortem photograph. Later, I remembered the old English folk song:

"Who killed Cock Robin?" "I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin."
"Who saw him die?" "I," said the Fly,
"With my little eye, I saw him die."
"Who caught his blood?" "I," said the Fish,
"With my little dish, I caught his blood."
"Who'll make the shroud?" "I," said the Beetle,
"With my thread and needle, I'll make the shroud."
"Who'll dig his grave?" "I," said the Owl,
"With my pick and shovel, I'll dig his grave."
"Who'll be the parson?" "I," said the Rook,
"With my little book, I'll be the parson."
"Who'll be the clerk?" "I," said the Lark,
"If it's not in the dark, I'll be the clerk."
"Who'll carry the link?" "I," said the Linnet,
"I'll fetch it in a minute, I'll carry the link."
"Who'll be chief mourner?" "I," said the Dove,
"I mourn for my love, I'll be chief mourner."
"Who'll carry the coffin?" "I," said the Kite,
"If it's not through the night, I'll carry the coffin."
"Who'll bear the pall? "We," said the Wren,
"Both the cock and the hen, we'll bear the pall."
"Who'll sing a psalm?" "I," said the Thrush,
"As she sat on a bush, I'll sing a psalm."
"Who'll toll the bell?" "I," said the bull,
"Because I can pull, I'll toll the bell."
All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin.

One of Life's Mysteries

Just once in a while, you come across something unusual. What do you think it is?

Pensive Panda and other Mosaics

I once had an opportunity to visit Washington Zoo and was very taken with the mosaic animal images on the entrance walls. There were several - here are a few to enjoy:

 

 

Blogs of Note 2

Jackie Morris' new blog contains a post detailing her love of moleskine sketchbooks to write and draw in. She provides two links to sites that record some of the fantastic art made by others in their own sketchbooks. Click here and then here. Enjoy!

Blogs of Note 1

Taking an opportunity to read through the links on this blog, I was pleased to see that the marvellous illustrator Jackie Morris has now transferred her journal to Blogger and can be viewed here. Please go and visit.

Christmas Greetings

Happy Christmas, one and all and . . . God bless!

Laurie

Spooked by a Stone

It's funny isn't. I often tell people to look up above the shop fronts and how they will discover hidden things - ornate guttering, statuary and crested downpipes. For quite a while, I haven't bothered to look down. Finding the portal this afternoon encouraged me to wander back with Sooty, but looking down. I am glad I did.

Sooty was snuffling around as little dogs do and then jumped to one side. I took a look and saw a stone that was oozing evil. Well, perhaps not evil, just a bit annoyed at being woken by the touch of a cold, wet nose. Sooty's, not mine!



I went back for another look and I realised it was playing a trick - being playful, even. Mr Grumpy Stone had encouraged another to move closer and now looked like a pirate wearing a tri-corn hat. Proof indeed that stones often have a sense of humour.

Have you looked up or down, lately? What have you found? Oh and be careful. Don't walk into lamp posts when you are looking elsewhere. One, it hurts and two, people laugh at you!

Portal to another Place!

A short time ago, I was escorting Sooty on her afternoon constitutional around the garden when I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. It came from the base of a Victorian garden urn - at least one hundre years old, maybe more.

I realised that the centre was actually the entrance to a very dark place. I put my eye close to entrance of the tunnel, but could see very little. There was just enough room to gently put my hand into it. I heard whispering noises and then felt what seemed like miniature hands clasping at my fingers. It was not unpleasant, but I didn't like to intrude. Thanking the inhabitants of the tunnel, I left them alone to get on with their lives without the 'great hand of Oz' poking into their home.

That was a couple of hours ago and now the thought of Alice comes to mind. Had I found the portal to Wonderland, I wondered? Do you have nooks and crannies in your own gardens that might be home to wondrous creatures? Please let us know!