April began with daffodils: great, everything under control.
On 4th April it snowed in the night and all day afterwards and my dianthus got covered. It was wet snow and nothing froze, only my opinion of Spring froze.
And from the beginning of April until now the local supermarket are offering free samples of crickets to eat as a snack whilst walking around the store. They were dead and dry and quite tasteless.
I saw the first cows outside on the meadow after spending Winter in the barn.
The Japanese cherry trees unfolded their flowers.
The storks began nesting and No. 1 baby had already left the egg.
The magnolia trees were in flower.
My first insect arrived one evening in the kitchen, a crane fly.
The first buds arrived on my apple tree.
And the pigeons noticed there was love in the air.
Yes, April is here.
RDP Saturday: April
What can you say when you live in a country, like Switzerland, that has no coast. We have lakes fed by our rivers and you even find a beach now and again, but a coast – forget it. We can swim in our rivers, we can sail a boat on the lakes, but there is no incoming tide steered by the moon and sun. We just get higher levels of water if it rains which can lead to flooding.
But a coast, no chance. Somehow when the countries were formed nature forgot to give Switzerland a sea or ocean. Everyone got their fair share and we were left in the middle, coasted by other counties. We are landlocked. In Winter the sea gulls pay us a visit. I suppose it is their holiday to get a change from the smell of salt in their beaks.
They are our tourists.
So when you spend your holidays in the sun laying on the beach in Miami, Mallorca, or on the French riviera, spare a thought for us Swiss left with mountains covered in the eternal snow or perhaps a trip on the lake of Lugano with no gateway to the big wide world by ocean.
RDP Saturday: Coast
It was only this week that I yet again saw a kite flying above and managed to get a photo. They are red kites and like to float around now and again, especially on the lower slopes of the mountains. Luckily Mr. Swiss recognises them from my photos, so I know the name.
Otherwise nothing to report on kites. Now and again I might see a father with his son flying a kite, but not very often.
RDP Saturday: Kite
Walthem Abbey, England
Tracery, the bits and pieces
Outlines, decorating windows
Presenting a majestic appearance
Tracking traces of wonder to the eye
Making more than just a window
Leaving an impression never to be forgotten
What did the builder intend?
Did he decide to chisel memories to last forever
Coughing away the brick dust
Coming home after the daily work was done
Brushing the dust from his apron
His wife washing the floor covered with white powder
Just a job like any other
To feed the family
He was not the architect designing with paper and ink
Brick dust under the fingernails
Rough skin on his hands
Leaving a mark to last forever
A building that will still be honoured centuries later
But he was just a worker
RDP Saturday: Tracery
Et orbi et orbi – oh sorry I got my latin mixed up, so let’s stay at home and not wander off to Rome.
So who put the stone here?
And what came first the stone or nature
The glaciers say it was all their own work
They pushed the stone on and on
It came to rest at the foot of the mountains
Glaciers had fulfilled their task
We now wonder why
And so the stone rested and submerged
It became one with the earth
Part of the scenery
Nature said no way
A tree spread its seeds
There was a battle
The stone was here first
Nature came afterwards
They now rest together
Part of the scenery
RDP Saturday: Rus in urbe
Listen to the tune of the wind
It is playing in the trees
An ouverture with nature
Swaying rhythm of branches
Breezes playing on the twigs
Boughs bending with the beat
Leaves dislodged and tinkling down
Gentle regular movement
A scathing force of bending branches
Pushing against wind gusts
Building a crescendo of noise
The first movement is playing
A soft lull in between
Collecting energy for the finale
An explosion of movement
And then all is peaceful
A pregnant murmur
Perhaps warning of a new release
The tune is never finished
The wind has continued the journey
There are other tunes to play
Sometimes with waves of water
Or gathering snow flurries
Now is silence
The musicians are resting
Taking a pause to collect breathe
Feel a soft breeze on your cheek
RDP Sunday: Tune
I used to go walking in the rain
Listening to the splashes on the umbrella
Feeling the watery mire under my boots
Enjoying the vigor of the surrounding air
Returning home I would shake myself
Like a wet dog, clearing the drops
Curl up on a warm seat with a coffee
Relax with a good feeling
My walks are now in my home
with a mop or a vacuum cleaner
No longer a need for an umbrella
At home it is dry and warm
I stumble around
Hold onto chairs and tables
Anything to steady my step
And take a look, is it still raining?
And so I read a book, rest with the computer
Stare out the window and wait
Tomorrow might be dry, the sun shining
I can go places again
With a wheelchair everything is at your feet
But you cannot use them so well
So wheel on with the camera
Capture the sights and hope the rain stays away
RDP Saturday: Walk