Back in the country there has been a welcome break from the early dry warm conditions, enough to get the accumulated debris from a few big wind storms and general droppings burnt off before summer.
Showers have moistened the top soil and we are between fire bans so despite these days there being a not so comfortable feeling about burning green waste, this is big stuff that can't be mulched without the use of a mulcher, neither practical nor affordable here, and so early one morning up it went.
It rekindles strong memories of dad burning piles of russet and gold autumn leaves on cold winter's days, leaning on rakes watching the curly whisps of smoke, the sparks fly, and not knowing then that that smell in my nostrils would take me there again, every time.
7 comments:
A prizewinner! And looks so much more autumnal than we are - should be but aren't yet - here.
I was more thinking cliché actually!
But I need to get all this down. It's my record of how I spend my days and as someone said - how you spend your days is how you spend your life.
Intrigued by the labels 'sentence': 'burn dad leaves memories' - a curious crossword clue, perhaps.
The origins of cliches can be poetic!
Nothing clever there David, you of the all seeing eye you. I was just thinking of some words that might help me find this in a few years time. Now you mention it, it does read as a cryptic clue to 'crematorium' or the like, except he's buried.
Now, use those eyes when riding please. We don't want a third.
This is lovely. I'm glad you're "getting it all down" and sharing it with us. I'm still taken aback, too, to be reminded that it's not fall to winter everywhere in the world.
To "complement" your day, here is mine: I spent most of it trying to decipher the Bach Chaconne, sitting around with the score and listening repeatedly, marking each measure, trying to identify where each of the variations started, then writing an essay about it. This was after last night being in an absolute righteous fury with the institute giving the course. Holding two opposing ideas in mind at (roughly) the same time. Why am I telling you this? Probably because DN doesn't have a new post that I can clutter up . . .
Oh Sue, if you could see me smiling and hear the chuckles. David will oblige you soon I'm sure. We are just home from a splendid concert of French music with a local debut by the very young Lionel Bringüieer (whose been in LA some time now) and the very handsome and equally accomplished cellist Gautier Capuçon so while I'd love to linger longer it is 16 hours since I left the house this morning and it is to bed. Chuckling.
How lovely that concert sounds. Will you tell us something about it, please? (I heard the chuckles, I do believe.)
Post a Comment