Sky, Dizzy-dog, and poetry.

I love sky-scapes. I was trying to take a photo of Dizzy-dog who is now back on form - so much so that her tiny body hardly shows up against the sand, especially as she runs very fast. That blob down by the water is not her - at that distance she wouldn't fill a single pixel.

We've been very lucky with the weather, no floods, little rain, not much ice and no snow so far, although there is snow visible on the hills across the firth. Life toddles along very comfortably. I'm getting back into writing mode, aided by the Tuesday group. Hearing other people's work does stimulate the lazy muse in me. My friend Tom is trying to get a hundred or more poems into some sort of order to have them put into a book. I hope he manages it because his experiences with his bi-polar chemistry and the journey he has made along that path is worth reading. Also, and more importantly, because his poems are often quite beautiful.

The poems that come out of us are manifestations of our being. This ponderous statement, perhaps fit only for Private Eye's 'Pseud's Corner,' started as something of an 'Aha!' revelation after I'd been listening to folk reading on Tuesday. Their poetry reflects their nature. Our newest member has already had a considerable success with her work, I remember how much people who bought her collections enjoyed what they found therein. One reader told me that she took Eileen's books with her wherever she went because the way Eileen translates events, landscapes an people into poetry helped her to see her own life in a different way. Eileen's poems are delicate traceries of imagery, as light as a newly spun web, containing what I can best call 'atmospheres,' little gaseous clouds of mood and meaning. They never thunder or assault but they share an experience in a way that endures. I am in awe.