Because the lap top has lost Windows and none of the usual or recommended steps have brought it back, I am upstairs in the studio with the old computer, enjoying the afternoon sun entering the window at eye level. I have resorted to the archive for today's leaf. It is in fact a leaf of four years ago, which I found in this skeletal state on the compost heap, and have preserved, between the pages of a notebook, ever since. Some visitors may have seen it before because I doubled it up with a mirror image to make a pair of wings for a Christmas card. Today I am glad to find it on my Picassa file: it consoles me for the temporary loss of lap top comfort. and it still inspires me as a symbol, frail and delicate though it may be , of survival.
Auld lang syne still appeals despite it endless repetition. "A cup of kindness" is to my mind the best thing that one human being can offer another. One of the later verses, I dare say seldom sung south of the border, goes:
"And there's a hand, my trusty fiere, (companion)
And gie's a hand o' thine,
And we'll tak a right guid-willie (hearty) waught (big drink)
Fo auld lang syne".
Two sorts of cup, but both appropriate on New Year's Day. A Happy New Year then!
In the garden among the bare branches of a tree, the colourful feathers of a jay - pinky brown breast, black tail, white stripes on wings, a spot of blue somewhere. Blackbirds, robins, sparrows, magpies, crows, thrushes and various tits are here in plenty, but you don't so often see or hear a jay.