Frosty morning in Swaledale today.

Ofrendra for Leon Trotsky in his house, Mexico City

Detail from the mural ‘Man, Controller of the Universe’ painted by Diego Rivera in 1933 on a wall in the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City.

Portrait of Lupe Marin, 1938 by Diego Rivera. Murdock de Arte Moderno. Mexico City.

Autumn leaves of Carya ovata in Kew Gardens

Shadow of Richmond Lock on the River Thames

Visiting Kew Gardens I came across a headless man in a black cloak riding a black charger. He rode off across Kew Green and I lost sight of him.

An important message for all those who call themselves Christians and also for those who label people Christians in media reports. If people calling themselves Christians don't follow the Gospel of Christ, then don't call them Christians. Describe them accurately for what they actually are and do.

Fascinating review of performance poetry for the Forward Prize that includes British Sign Language performed poetry by Zoë McWhinney, a BSL and Visual Vernacular poet based in South East London @wishbonewords.bsky.social

A poem from the amazing @wishbonewords.bsky.social Issue 15 that is about #gardening, #prosac and #mentalhealth with a reference to #Niwaki secateurs 😀

"He told me that when he was a lad his mother entered a Swiss Roll in the show, and it didn’t win a prize because she was told that she hadn’t cut the ends of the roll off. He said that his mother never forgot the humiliation and would mention it every time she baked." moodscope.com/blog/village...

Books from an independent book seller arriving, complete with orange tissue wrapping and a hand written note.

Ferns on a beech tree bole on a lane side bank in the woods above the River Otter

Sheltering from a sudden rain squall in the pavilion in Kew Gardens, and then just as suddenly, the sun shines again.

"He sits motionless, like a spider in the centre of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself. He only plans. But his agents are numerous and splendidly organised."

This is the safety-catch, which is always released With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see Any of them using their finger.

Dragons on the pavilion in Kew Gardens

Sweet chestnut tree in Kew Gardens.

Here's one for #clocksticking from Wishbone Words Issue 15 May 2025. @dragonslayerma.bsky.social #PromptCombo

Our submission window for Issue 17 will be open starting September 1! We accept prose (fiction & non-fiction), poetry, art and photography! Please visit www.wishbonewords.com/submit for more guidelines. Tag some disabled and chronic talent below to spread the word! 🪷▫️🪷▫️🪷

Van Gogh. Piles of French novels. 1887. In the Royal Academy exhibition.

It was just an ordinary patch of lawn when I moved in, but there were all sorts of flowers hidden amongst the tightly cropped grass. Buttercups, clover, vetches, oxeye daisy, betony, birdsfoot trefoil, and many different types of grasses. moodscope.com/blog/vivid-d...

Fund raising display in Hawes for the air ambulance. A Toy Story character hanging over a river with a sign saying ‘To infinity and beyond’

Respect to poet Alice Oswald for standing up against genocide in Palestine and getting arrested for her honesty and compassion

“If you wish I can pour you a glass of wine, but it is better if I make larger movements, like opening the corked bottle in one go.” The brilliant Kimberly Campanello describing life with Parkinson’s disease in her poem ‘Make Up’.

After the storm

"In Spring the meadows are full of sheep with their lambs. Then they are taken to higher pastures in early summer so that the meadows can soak up the summer sun and grow ready for mowing around Lammas Tide, halfway between the summer solstice and autumn equinox." moodscope.com/blog/lammas-...

The waterfall at Swinner Gill Kirk, viewed from the side of the cave entrance.

Swinner Gill in Upper Swaledale

All flowers in my garden Are free Except the wayward sweet peas; And they, Have forged tiny green chains, And chained themselves To my lattice And to my heart. Margaret McKenny

Iconic anti-war poster, originally by US printmaker Lorraine Schneider, 1966 #ReframingWomenPrintmakers

This week's blog in Moodscope: "In the valley further down the dale at the beautifully arched Ivelet Bridge, there is a stone beside the path to rest the coffin on. I was taken to Ivelet Bridge as a child and shown the coffin stone." moodscope.com/blog/the-cor...

“And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky.” Swaledale is a long way from Thomas’s Adlestrop, but the plants in the hay meadows are the same.

I've just read Hotel Amour by Deryn Rees Jones. TBH I wasn't expecting much. The snippets I'd seen had the most awful enjambment and the book blurb was ridiculous. But I sat and read the whole thing right the way through totally transfixed. You need to know a bit for context. Widow. Covid.

“Hope is like a harebell trembling from its birth,” Christina Rossetti

"Their talk, however, was the talk of sordid buccaneers: it was reckless without hardihood, greedy without audacity, and cruel without courage; there was not an atom of foresight or of serious intention in the whole bunch of them, and they did not seem aware these things are wanted .... " Conrad

Ghost plant, Monotropa uniflora, in a forest close to Mexico City. A favourite flower of Emily Dickinson ‘Tis dimmer than a lace - No stature has it, like a Fog

Having cancelled my Amazon and Audible subscriptions as soon oligarch Bezos supported the authoritarian regime, I've been on the look out for an alternative source of audio books. Like so many things, it's close to home and was always there. My local library: www.northyorks.gov.uk/leisure-tour...

Barbara Chase-Riboud. Bathers (Les Nageurs). 1972. Aluminium and silk. Bathers/ In a new and unpolluted sea/ Fresh from vision/ You and I. Leeds Art Gallery.

A herd of horses shod with hours jangling like thunder, wheel in a field. Their rugged bodies are rank with time, their flashing eyes ablaze with days. #VelimirKhlebnikov Master of Time

A poem from @wishbonewords.bsky.social Issue 15 with acknowledgements to #GillianClarke and #VelimirKhlebnikov. Though mostly recognising the master of time, #VelimirKhlebnikov who knew a lot, an awful lot, about critical junctures in life. #teenagepregancy #poetrybluesky #poetrytransitions

Latest blog on Moodscope. “A village is furious with its vicar for having a 15th-century church tower rendered in white, making it an abomination which can be seen for miles.” moodscope.com/blog/the-whi...

Elderflower, the witches tree. I’ve been making elderflower cordial from the flowers.

Wood Cranesbill in Muker Meadows, Swaledale

Thank you @wishbonewords.bsky.social and @nowhalle.bsky.social for accepting my poems for the November issue of #wishbonewordsmagazine. That’s brightened my day 🙂

Watching me watching you. Leveret by the Pennine Way near Keld.

Peony

Ono Tadashige. Seaweed and the birds.

If this was a film script, then something dreadful would happen to the evil protagonist whilst they were prominently positioned watching a parade of hundreds of tanks, and this would be the critical juncture in the plot when the hidden controlling masterminds take over.

Art and the artist. Reading about the friendship between Ted Hughes and the author Henry Williamson, who wrote Tarka the Otter (which greatly influenced Hughes), I discovered that Williamson was a politically active fascist and admirer of Hitler. I never knew that.