sparking memories

.....galloping on horses, their hoofprints
Splashes of light, divots kicked out of the darkness,

For some reason, that Michael Longley poem I quoted yesterday had me thinking of horses galloping along beaches, which seems a bit showy. I guess it was the pelagic references that followed, that reminded me of Into The West, which is a bit of a skiddly-diddly, redemptive-power-of-the-celtic-twilight sort of movie, in my opinion, and as this trailer will possibly demonstrate.



...but it also reminded me of Gawain setting out in his quest for the Green Knight

He sperred the sted with his spures & sprong on his way
So stif that the stonfir sprong out ther aft

'stone fire' is a nice way of describing the sparks...

Anyway, I have neither galloped into the celtic twilight, beachwise or otherwise, not quested on a charger. Though I did like the hymn we used to sing in primary school, 'When a Knight Won His Spurs'. Adjust pronouns to suit your own circumstances.

When a knight won his spurs in the stories of old
He was gentle and brave he was gallant and bold
With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand
For God and for valour he rode through the land

No charger have I and no sword by my side
Yet still to adventure and battle I ride
Though back into storyland giants have fled
And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead

So let faith be my shield and let hope be my steed
Against the dragons of anger the ogres of greed
And let me set free with the sword of my youth
From the castle of darkness the power of the truth

It was only later that I realised that the writer of the words was Joyce Maxtone Graham, otherwise Jan Struther, author of Mrs Miniver, which is a very good book if a rotten movie.

Oh yes, memory. Walking out on the sands of Morecambe Bay, beyond Arnside, at Christmas in 1980 or so. A still, clear morning. Silent except for the occasional scream of a gull and a train passing over the viaduct and rattling along the coastal railway track.


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And then a roebuck emerged from the woods on the shore and galloped across the sands, until it reached another promontory and finally disappeared into the woods again. And we wondered, and carried on our walk.

coffee spoons

Sometimes it feels like I spend too much time measuring my life in coffee spoons. Wandering around the flat thinking "I really must get out more". Gazing at blank sheets of paper. Idly reaching for the Digestive biscuits.

Meanwhile, it rains and rains, and when it rains especially hard Katie dashes up onto the roof and dances in it, as you do.

It got me thinking of a Michael Longley poem, so I dug it out.

Water-Burn

We should have been galloping on horses, their hoofprints
Splashes of light, divots kicked out of the darkness,
Or hauling up lobster pots in a wake of sparks. Where
Were the otters and seals? Were the dolphins on fire?
Yes, we should have been doing more with our lives.

...though I'm not sure about the galloping horses thing. Sounds a bit showy. It reminds me a bit of the sticker you sometimes see on the back of Land Rovers, the one that says ONE LIFE LIVE IT, as though driving to Waitrose in a Land Rover was somehow a more intense experience than doing it in, say, a Nissan Micra. Discuss.

I took some of my pictures down to Minuteman Press in Bedminster, and they scanned them into TIFFs for me. Then the nice folk at Niche Frames in Stokes Croft ("Bristol's Cultural Quarter") ran off some giclee prints for me.

They look very nice. I am pleased.