Monthly Archives: July 2013
Fluffy cumulus float across the sky in flocks, like unspun wool waiting to be carded. Behind them nimbus come, dark and water-laden. As the evening darkens, the rain begins to fall.
The little grey dog stops, tail not moving, ears pricked. Opposite him is a tortoiseshell cat, sideways on, back arched. Neither moves a muscle. A stand off is in progress, but who will win?
It stands proud of the patch of wildflowers. Its delicate red petals curling and floating in the breeze, it displays its black heart. A beautiful flower doomed to remind us of the blood and horror of war for eternity.
A tantalising aroma rises from the dark red liquid. We dip the black ladle in, helping ourselves and each other. Deep colour splashes into white bowls. We dig in our spoons, and the meal begins.
They bob on the pool’s surface, abandoned. Plastic primary colours contrast with the sunlit, brilliant blue of the water. The joyful babies who played with them are gone, but still they float, awaiting their return.
A semi-circle of black-clothed, rugged masculinity. Consummate performance artistes in their prime. An audience at once spellbound and in stitches. The Spooky Men are in town. http://www.spookymen.com
It opens up its bright orange heart for just one day. Desperately, it beckons insects in before its life expires. Next to it, another bud grows fat, ready to resume the quest.