Ten past eleven. Tunbridge Wells Station from footbridge.
In the vegetable garden the soundscape has and flaps and rattles in the wind. Some lighter sheeting over a huge pile of sand makes rustles. The the wind drops, the sun comes out, and you hear robins and tits begin to chirrup and twitter.
The yellow flowers of Spring are beginning gradually, perhaps reluctantly to flower. Even the brazen daffodils are slow off the mark. Today the first dandelions and lesser celandine open their petals. The pale green and yellow catkins meanwhile slant down from the branches of trees like rain. And the wind beating down from Northern Europe still chills even when the sun is out.
7 comments:
Help I only deleted one as they were duplicates. I depend on comments!
I am sorry Robbie and anyone else who has attempted to comment and been frustrated. Like you responses are important. Talking into the dark and nothing not even an echo coming back is scary as well as depressing. I keep testing the system and it seems to work most of the time. Though odd things do happen. I only arrived at the current layout by chance and am worried about tweaking it as worse things have happened as for example a black exclamation mark effacing all my photographs. I never sorted that one out and testimony to its destructive path is still to be found in my archives. Perhaps it's something to do with dark matter. All I can say is please persist I depend on your voices streaming in space and time.
This is a comment about commenting. I think Blogger is constantly working on its system and introducing new formats. This is positive, yet there is a downside. Hope this comment appears, as it is supposed to do.
Commenting is an essential part of blogging, as well as an enjoyable way to stay in touch!
Joyce loves the composition of the Tunbridge Wells Station photo, almost on a level with the clock!
Just wondered what the difference between making a comment and replying to a comment is. I think its the same.
It seems to be working then. Relief so far.
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