Unexpected twinkle. Yesterday I took the car for a thorough wash and brush up. I realise that sometimes celebrating serendipity is perhaps a little improbable but this little diamond heart was laying on the floor of the garage where the hand-wash men work their magic.
Blogging requires me to use a tracking system for my photos so I have a level of proof of my serendipitous finds.
Car cleaning was predicted to take an hour so the dogs and I went for a wander in the backstreets nearby. Somewhat unkindly I looked at this building and thought that there was not much chance of this particular Phoenix rising any time soon.
Only to discover that this Phoenix had led quite a fabulous life in the past.
Not only fabulous but curiously thought provoking . It’s one thing to be a good skater capable of winning competitions but getting the prize home, a live chicken or pig, would seriously impede celebration.
Until yesterday I was unaware Plymouth was an International Mecca for roller skating. My local district, Stonehouse had 3 rinks. 9 in total for the city of Plymouth. Books have been written about it.
Tonight’s early evening dog walk will be a precious thing. The last one before the clocks go forward and early evenings get dark. Too dark to sensibly walk beside the sea where there are no street lamps. Last nights walk was enlivened by a particularly high tide. The bay felt full and the song of the sea, as it hit the cliffs was much more powerful than usual. Ordinarily we might have arranged an early evening swim with the bobbers on a high tide. But for some reason we didn’t and that was a good thing, there was nothing safe about the water conditions last night. We all love a bit of bubbling choppy water but the fun needs to be safe. I was anxious to take some photos to share with the bobbers so we could all feel wise and sensible about not being cold and wet on a Friday evening.
This was the wave that made me cold and wet on a Friday evening. Rather than stop at the pink step as all the recent ones had. This one got an additional power surge and crashed into the stone steps, sending a spray of water 8 feet into the air. What goes up came down and I was drenched from head to foot. It was unexpected and exhilarating and just made me laugh as I retreated to safety. Now I am a fairly risk averse person but in that moment the unexpected joy of being powerfully splashed reminded me of being a child squealing at the beach. Which brings me neatly to the prompt that my blog hosts offered today.
How much would you pay to go to the moon?
Honestly I have no desire to go to the moon, so there would never be any spending by me to take a trip there. But if I could safely be tossed around in a clear plastic ball/bubble on and in a rough sea just for twenty minutes I might consider investing a small amount. It would have to be as safe as the wildest ride at a water park and I would like to be plunged down the huge underwater cliff that is just a few metres from our swimming zone to meet the deep sea creatures that are invisible to me on my daily visits. I have always felt this way. 54 years ago the first man on the moon failed to excite me, but give me a library book filled with deep sea creatures and I was lost for hours . Jacques Cousteau a diver and television documentary maker was a far more romantic and heroic figure than Neil Armstrong could ever be.
The sea, for me, is the Final Frontier. Space is for other people.
P S the eagle eyed noticed an error, the clocks go back. Dark evening panic over for a few weeks.
Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?
Another prompt from Jetpack that fires enthusiasm into my soul. Lazy days are the opposite of unproductive and being lazy is one of the most deliberate experiences to allow myself. I find lazy days to be some of the most productive, in terms of creative and useful thinking.
I probably had a lazy day yesterday, no actual commitments but a mental list of tasks that could be achieved with ease and some firm future plans put in place.
There is a car park right in the centre of the city which has broken payment machines. Two hours of free parking at least was the chance to walk the dogs somewhere different. They would be exhausted if I walked them there. Then demand a coffee break. I can’t imagine where they learned that habit. By driving them I could avoid coffee, which might still provoke a whimsical digestive system. I could window shop and visit a market while they were enthusiastically sniffing the urban realm. Everyone was happy.
Lazy days make little things really significant. I popped in to see a friend and her fruit bowl looked simply gorgeous with a cute little gourd posing on some plums.
On a busy day I might not have noticed.
Then a long, lazy walk as the moon popped up, no shops this time just the bay and the squeals of after-work swimmers.
Bright October sun gave me this image yesterday. It was a day for walking and enjoying good weather. The rust coloured scratches on the paving slab caught my eye as the orange leaf briefly landed at my feet. I had no idea until later that the shadow had formed such a perfect leaf shape. Nature and sun accompanied me on my coastal meanderings.
The sea was in a very calm mood, so much so that I was tempted to go for a solo swim despite having a 6pm one booked with the bobbers. Waiting was the right idea. We were not alone in the bay, a small choir of women had gathered on the beach. As we swam they sang. Strange unknown sounds filled the cove. The incoming tide pushed them closer and closer to the small cliffs that surround our swimming area. If this had been a summer or winter solstice we might have anticipated such an unusual experience. Even the pragmatic bobbers crack out a candle or two for special swims. No merfolk were summoned while we were swimming. A fat seal snacked on a big fish. We probably stayed in the water a little too long, but unexplained singing to the sea is not our usual experience of the Wednesday evening bob. The moment was quite cinematic . The singing was not exactly joyful, New-age , part chant, part song; soaring notes with harmony and discordance woven together. There was a lot of hugging. We clambered out as their last notes filled the air. Hot drinks were needed by both groups of women. The magic , or moment, broken by the need to warm up, and for the bobbers to chatter about their mid-week lives. Chocolate may have been involved.
The evening dog walk fueled by a left over bobbing chocolate.
P.s This blog was deliberately written before I have had the chance to email one of the singers to ask what they were doing.
After the bob we learned that one of our Bobbers’ mothers had died the previous day, I wish she could have been with us last night, as a singer she would have appreciated what ever it was we experienced.
Happy Solstice, 4:30 AM and the beach was quiet. Half an hour later and this whole beach was full of people who had had a fabulous early morning swim. Many of us will be back at 9:30 pm for the sunset swim. This was the warmest swim I have done since last summer.
Yesterday I hit peak procrastination. I had a painting to finish for an August exhibition I had every intention of spending the day on it but somehow was sidetracked by a painting that has waited nearly 10 years to be finished. The painting was for a specific place in the actual Old Mortuary, It was painted to hang in the stairwell and was not quite finished when our lovely builders hung it before I had put the finishing touches. It was in such an awkward place I never bothered to take it down to finish. Then we moved house and it found a new home. All the time hanging quite happily in its non finished state. I have no idea why yesterday became the day it was finished. I just whipped it off the wall and set about finishing it. Procrastination at its finest.
East wind and a high tide can make swimming a little like spending time in a washing machine, at our normal beach. So Today I, once again, chose the secluded steps access to the sea, where there is a little shelter from an easterly wind. This time without interrupting a mourning family. See below ⬇️
Wind was on my mind because, after swimming, I had two consecutive sessions of painting with two different groups. And I needed to finish a painting that features abstract shapes that represent the wind and Smeatons Tower, our local landmark Lighthouse.
To say I have become obsessed with painting the wind since living on a peninsular would be an understatement. I have even thought about getting a home weather station.
Now to excuse myself for a late blog. A timely blog would have happened between the first dog walking image and the second swimming image, but I met three different people I knew on the dog walk and, quite frankly talked too much.
1, Sweet Peas and their placement in a south facing garden with a neighbour.
2, A local anniversary fete with someone I only know by sight.
3, A road accident with a friend I haven’t seen since March.
Blogging time blown out of the water. I had a very quick turnaround to meet my swimming companion. Then we were both off to the same art group where talking and creating is the point of the whole thing. Networking would be the word. Very good for artists who largely work in isolation. We planned our next group exhibition.
Then off to meet the next group, predominantly crafters, at a cafe. It turns out I was at the wrong cafe but I met a friend who I had not seen for a few weeks and we caught up on a project that we had both been working on for a Tennis Club. Half an hour later, no crafters at the cafe and I Whatsapped them to see if the gathering had been cancelled.
I was in the wrong place!
Finally I reached the place where talking was always the plan. For once I was fairly quiet, but I did finish the wind painting.
When I was a small person someone who talked too much was given the derogatory title of a ‘right’or ‘old’ windbag.
On reflection I have definitely been that person today. Caught somewhere between being old, juvenile or pompous.
Or worse!
My father used a much less palatable description of the over-talkative and called chatty people ‘verbally incontinent’. He was himself a skilled listener and rather a wise bean.
How do you use windbag in a sentence?
She was a bit of a windbag, but chatterbox would be a kinder term, she did paint a good wind while she nattered.
Altered photograph of the bar at the VOT where I ended up. Looks a bit windy to me.
Without any planning this week is turning into a low tide kind of week. Hannah did the late evening walk and caught this beautiful image, which is exactly as it presented itself to her. This is an unused wharf,which again we rarely photograph. In fact, just like an old fisherman tale, it is the site of the ‘ one that got away’ We were here last summer with our granddaughter VV, who was visiting from Hong Kong. She,at 3,was a very diligent dog walker, taking complete care of Lola’s needs for the whole walk. This, in turn required us to be hypervigilant so no chance of a quick smartphone photo. The tide was in and the day was very hot with no shade. Something was going on in the water, there was a lot of fishy activity. We all looked intently into the water. Basking in the shade of floating seaweed we spotted a small shark or a large dog fish. Most likely the Lesser Spotted Dogfish which is common in these parts,where it is also called a Murgey. Just like fishermen, this one who got away from our photography, was larger than average. For an excited 3 year old there was no Murgey or Dogfish about the find. We had gone on a dog walk and found a shark. A Shark! At the end of the road!
Yesterday was a surprise in many ways. Most significantly it did not rain anything like as much as predicted. Impending wet weather gave the morning a sepia tinge. My working day at the local museum was somewhat dull, many of the exhibition spaces are in a state of flux with old exhibitions coming down ready for a change. In consequence there were not many visitors. The Museum offers excellent facilities for family history research. So on a whim I sat down and had a dabble at a family tree.
The minute I started to achieve relative success the day began to feel even more sepia as old documents flashed up before my eyes. In honesty I don’t really know what I am doing, so half an hour of success had fished out more than enough information for a first day.
I had dabbled with a family tree once before and found an unknown, but close, relative had done a huge amount of research which was available on-line. I was impressed and wrote via the website to add myself to his family tree. While I had no expectation of a grand reunion so beloved of the media. I had thought that when doing a genetic jigsaw every little piece has some value. Not so in this case,he clearly preferred his relatives to be dead and historic, not current and breathing. No thank you email ever found its way to me. My brief foray yesterday did not uncover his precious resource so perhaps it has been removed to keep live people out of his way. He may also no longer subscribe… Who could guess?
The lack of visitors did not cut down on my talking at the museum. What I lacked in numbers I made up for with two exceedingly long interactions. One was with a very inebriated man who’s intensity of conversation took many intriguing twists and turns to unexpected places. The other was with a regular visitor who talks in ever expanding circles that then with no warning snaps back to the exact same point that he started at, many, many minutes before. Sometimes it is fascinating to be included in another, unknown persons mindscape without any responsibility or limited timeframe. Maybe a little like reading an unknown persons blog.
Some days not much happens, here is clip to show how the header artwork was created.
Early morning and no rain! Monday shows promise. Yesterday was a proper drencher, probably due to my own bad planning. On a positive the rain chased me into a newish coffee destination near home. Block in the Royal William Yard.
Loads of lovely texture to enjoy while drying out and enjoying a plain chocolate, hot chocolate. The dogs and my feet dried out ready to carry on walking, swamp foot avoided for another day.
It, has happened in Stonehouse, the last vestiges of summer have slipped away and there is a chill in the air. Today was my first day in tights and a jacket, other clothes were worn. I was not just prancing around like a principal boy in a ballet. Walking around Stonehouse often involves random conversations with strangers. Today it was all about the weather.When the bobbers gathered at 6pm many layers had been added to our summer casualness of a towel, a costume and some summer clothing. It’s not the swimming that has particularly changed but getting out of the water is decidedly cooler.
Sunset looking west.Sunset superimposed on sunrise
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