It always puts me in mind of these lines from one of John Donne's great poems:
TIS the yeares midnight, and it is the dayes,
Lucies, who scarce seaven houres herself unmaskes,
The Sunne is spent, and now his flasks
Send forth light squibs, no constant rayes;
The worlds whole sap is sunke:
The generall balme th'hydroptique earth hath drunk,
Whither, as to the beds-feet, life is shrunke,
Dead and enterr'd; yet all these seeme to laugh,
Compar'd with mee, who am their Epitaph.
John Donne, A Nocturnall Upon St. Lucies Day, being the shortest day.
It's no wonder we feel the need to brighten things up with animated lights and sparkling decorations. Not to mention eating and drinking too much. Yes, folks, Christmas is coming...
6 comments:
Nice pics Mike. Whomerly wood is a carpet of squishy yellows and browns, and Fairlands Valley bathed in the milky soft robes of morning mist earlier today. Breathtaking. Unfortunately I was late for a flat-viewing so pushed onward with the trusty bicyclette. May get a few pics tomorrow with luck.
eeyorn,
Ah, the Valley... Growing up in Peartree Way, the Valley (the old Valley, mind, when it was a cornfield) was our extended back garden. I believe The Canyon became an "adventure playground"... Well, that's what it always was. I was knocked unconscious there once by a rock thrown in a "stone fight"...
Mike
I too have fond memories of playing in the cornfield and the canyon which doesn't seem half so big and intimidating now that its an official 'playground'. I'm sure most canyon afficianados have at least one story of attending A+E following an unfortunate'adventure' :-)
eeyorn,
Thinking about it, I suppose you must have been one of the alien tribe who entered the Valley from the other side!
Mike
Indeed!!!
Nice coloring here ...
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