Saturday, 19 March 2011

190311

This creation is in the grounds of our local Emeaus re-cycling centre. It is meant to remind us of the house of God. The work has been put together by a lady artist whose name escapes me for the moment. The frame is constructed from an old bed and everything else is representative of the sort of household goods that regularly pass through the residents hands. I think that meaningful works that convey a “conversation” - as this does – are the sort of modern art that I can understand and appreciate.


I am not in the regular habit of taking photos with my phone (what would my granddad who died in the ‘fifties have made of that statement) but I remember stopping the car and snapping this arboreal alien in someone’s garden last summer.


Herringstone House in Winterbourne Herringstone. Often I have driven past and thought I would like to take a picture down the long drive from the road but there always seemed to be a Land Rover or some other vehicle parked outside spoiling the view. Yesterday though, no cars in sight – not the best of pictures but the sun was well in my face so the picture looks somewhat washed out. I’ll try again when the light is right. It is quite something that the Williams family who live here have used this old roof for shelter for so many years. A John Williams who was born in 1545 was one of the earliest occupiers (if not the earliest).


You are looking at Jordan Hill. This is the road we negotiate when leaving our lovely caravan at Bowleaze Cove. We were quite surprised by a local resident when she told us a couple of days ago that during that cold snap we all endured this past winter, this road was impassable for four days. I sit here now in the caravan looking up the hill bathed in warm sunshine and find it hard to imagine. Local folk cannot remember it worse. Global warming? - Oh yeah?


Seems we are to be treated tonight with a “super moon”. I just hope my sleep apnoeas mask does not fall of because if it does – and my chain saw snoring kicks in and the vulpine side of me induces howlings at the lunar spectacle it could well be a noisy night around here!

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